


I'll Be Yours

by whendoestheshipsail



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 2023!Steve returns, Angry Sex, Bucky has been Steve's dom since Brooklyn, Bucky undercover as event coordinator to capture bad guys!, Canon Compliant, Cock Warming, Daddy Kink, Dom Bucky Barnes, Flimsy mission excuse for tropical vacation, Happy Ending, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt/Comfort, I didn't know they were in a D/s Relationship!, I'm not happy about it either, M/M, No Littles!, Or Little behavior, People are pissed at him, Porn With Plot, Possessive Bucky Barnes, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Rough Sex, Sam pretends to play the guitar!, Sharon knows it's awkward she's in this story too poor thing, Snark, Steve is suicidal, Steve just likes to say daddy, Sub Steve Rogers, The Avengers Are Good Bros, To Hawaii!, Vomiting, Wanda in a sunhat!, but it gives Bucky a chance to take care of Steve, i don't think they need it but just in case it's been tagged that i'm not dealing with that here, in all senses of the word, steve is a masochist, steve just wants to be a good boy, there were no safewords in the 40's
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-07 13:28:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19085980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whendoestheshipsail/pseuds/whendoestheshipsail
Summary: After ‘The Snap’ Steve has a mental breakdown and just…snaps. He  goes back to see Peggy, hoping it will spur Bucky into restarting their relationship. It doesn't. He wishes he could be normal enough to stay with Peggy in the  past. He can't. And so Steve comes back to 2023 determined to retire, gives Sam the shield and slinks off in a photostatic veil intending to die in peace (potentially by suicide). But, then Nat knocks on his door and tells him he's needed back on the team. Everything is different now. Bucky is in charge. Everyone calls him James and his ability to keep it professional makes Steve want to die. Steve would give anything to go back to the way things were, Bucky as his lover, his dom (not that anyone called it that in the 40's), really his everything. As the missions wear on it becomes clear to everyone that Steve likely won’t survive the heartbreak. When Bucky realizes it too, everything begins to change.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, here's the deal, I've always loved Dom Bucky and personally head canon that Steve is the world's biggest masochist. And, after Endgame, my desire to see him punished has grown. F*ck 2023 Steve and his leaving Bucky for Peggy BS. This Steve realizes he fucked up and it torments him. There is suicidal ideation, it's discussed and Steve makes questionable decisions and basically survives despite himself. So, if this is triggering for you, this is not your story. Also, Steve and Bucky's D/s relationship was basically 24/7 back in the forties and this leads Bucky to make a few questionable sexual decisions for Steve when he isn't really in a place to consent. Beware if that is something you have a problem with. Like, Bucky uses cock warming to get Steve down off a suicidal ledge. I realize that's problematic for some people. But, uh, it also seemed really hot so there we are and I hope you're willing to take this journey despite those warnings! There's lots of Avengers together time and as Chuck as my witness they will go to Hawaii! And did I mention the cock warming?

Azzano 1943

 

 

Considering all the torture Bucky had just endured, he’s surprised that it’s the emotional pain that might finally finish him off. An emotional dagger that will slit his throat and get him sent home in a box. Steve was beside him, soldiers all around them, joyous after being liberated, hell, _he_ was joyous after being liberated. Bucky had thought he was a goner. He’d practically made peace with it. By which he means he would have been willing to die if it meant the pain would stop.

But Steve had come in, wait, no, _Captain America_ had come in, liberated him and an entire base one-handed and now they were back at camp, Bucky was leading them all in a cheer and Steve, well, Steve was staring into the eyes of the classiest broad Bucky had ever seen and it was pretty clear that whatever he’d missed while he was away, the changes that had occurred in Steve Rogers weren’t just on the surface.

The Steve of before was gone. His Steve. Replaced by this specimen of male perfection. The Carter woman was looking at Steve like he was and always had been Captain America. He’d bet every damned dollar he was owed that it was the best Steve had ever felt. His past as weak and perverse could now be permanently wiped away, he’d be a phoenix rising from the ashes of his own degeneracy. This Steve was going to be straight as an arrow and they’d have the best missionary sex anyone had ever had.To think Bucky had been liberated for _this_. This was worse than the poking, prodding and pumping him full of drugs he’d endured.

He slipped away as quickly as he could, so fast that he was able to get a shower without waiting in line. So fast that he didn’t even have a celebratory drink. So fast that when he started to cry in that damned shower, no one was the wiser.

They were going to have to have a conversation. He and Steve. A break-up conversation. How bizarre was that? Steve had been his. _His._ For years. It was meant to be for life. Before and after the war. The two of them. In sickness and in health. But now that he was healthy, now that he was some perfect specimen he’d moved on from Bucky and the little world they’d created with each other.

He wondered how long ago this had happened to Steve. How many months had Steve been someone who didn’t love or need Bucky anymore while Bucky had been longing for him like a fish longs for water?

Steve now belonged to America, to that woman, to himself. So many claims on Steve Rogers and none of them would ever be Bucky again. He got out of the shower because the water went cold and someone was inevitably going to show up and start bitching him out for taking too long.

Steve was loitering around outside the showers, waiting for him. “I don’t have long,” Steve said.

“Of course you don’t,” he said, and smiled. “You’re Captain America and we’re in a war. Not a moment to waste.”

Steve frowned but didn’t question it. “I just wanted to see how you were.”

“About as good as can be expected.” Seeing as he’d been experimented on, tortured, expected to die, suddenly saved and was now about to be dumped. How was he? Well,he was pretty fucking shitty. This was the kind of day thatmade men wander into no-man’s-land or volunteer to hold a god damned flamethrower.

“Good. Good. I didn’t expect this to be awkward,” Steve said, a blush rising on his cheeks. He looked around them, as if he was worried they’d be caught.

And, actually, that pissed Bucky off. “Sorry, I can’t put you at ease, Captain, maybe after a good night’s rest I’ll do better,” he said.

“That’s not what I meant. I’m not blaming you,” he said, and he could see the hurt rising in Steve’s eyes. Oh no, itwas worse than hurt, he could see the tears forming and however beautiful he’d looked when he was Bucky’s boy, well, he was even more appealing now with his muscles and glowing health. Fucking Steve. How the hell was Bucky supposed to have a life after this? “Bucky,” he said, and his voice wavered, the first hint that his boy might still be in there somewhere.

Just like that the rage dissipated. What was the point? He fucking hurt, he wanted to sleep, and he knew it was going to be one nightmare after another until he died or someone gave Hitler a heil up the ass. But that was irrelevant because Steve needed reassurance and that was something Bucky was used to.

He’d thought itwas his life’s purpose, really. Take care of Stevie. He sighed, pressed fingers to his eyes, a sharp headache beginning to pound through him. “I know. And I’m sorry. This is just…a lot. I thought I was going to die and I kept thinking you were safe in Brooklyn. I kept thinking about how sad you were going to be with me gone. But here you are and everything is different.”

“And you’re safe,” Steve said, voice low. He leaned forward, but now he was tall so whether he meant it to be aggressive or not, it was. After what he’d been through, one didn’t step uplike that unless there was some violence behind it.

Bucky had absolutely no idea what to do now. “You gonna hit me?”

Steve blinked. Stepped back. “What? No. Of course not.”

“Then get out of my face. You’re not who you were, you can’t do that anymore.”

Steve swallowed hard, blinked, clearly off-balance. “Oh. I look different now, I’m not who I was so now…so, that’s it?” he asked, shoulders hunching in as if he were embarrassed by his new body. “I can’tgo back!” Steve said, wildly.

“You know damned well your body isn’t the issue.”

And that was when Agent Carter came over, smelling of roses and radiating feminine strength. “Sergeant Barnes. We hope to have uniforms for you all within the next few days.”

“It’s fine. I’ve only been wearing this since I got captured. What’s a few more days?” he said, and he cranked the smile back into place.

Steve’s whole body turned towards Agent Carter like she was the god damned sun and Bucky took that opportunity to leave. He’d just been tortured, his best guy had dumped him for a woman and had changed beyond all recognition and he was tired. He was going to sleep for a week.

It wasn’t a week but it was 14 hours. When he got out there was a camera crew who wanted to do a propaganda piece about how Steve had rescued him.

Yesterday Bucky couldn’t have faced such a thing but he could do this now. He would.He’d had food, a shower, his wounds were healing scarily quickly and he needed to compartmentalize, put all this away and try not to think about how he’d just lost the love of his life. They’d been best friends. They could _still_ be friends. And if nothing else he wanted Steve to make it out of this fucking hell hole and have a good life.

He protected Steve. To the end of the line. So that’s what he’d do. No matter how much it hurt.


	2. Chapter 2

Over the next few weeks Steve lost weight. Bucky saw it happening. He was pale and withdrawn, that fiery spark Steve usually had in his eyes was as dull as the rest of Captain America. And yet, the world loved him. The men loved him. Fucking Peggy Carter loved him.

He was now above them, better and other. Steve even had his own special tent so he didn’t have to slum it with the rest of the men. Not that he used it. Several times Bucky had woken up in the night and found Steve sitting next to him, watching him sleep.

One night he’d finally just told Steve to bring a damned pillow and sleeping bag and he had. When Bucky had awoken in the morning Steve had still been there, facing Bucky, hand open like he’d gone to sleep wishing Bucky would touch him.

And then Peggy summoned him to her office. “I’m worried about Steve.”

He wanted to say ‘fuckyou’ because he was the one who got to worry about Steve. It had been his job since he was 6 years old. His whole god damned life revolved around worrying about Steven Grant Rogers. Who was she to turn up, be some beautiful interloper and then give Bucky orders? He’d loved Steve before the serum. She hadn’t. Wouldn’t have. Simple as that. And now she wanted _his_ help?

“Sounds like you should talk to him about that,” Bucky said, and because his ma had taught him to be a gentleman he even sounded sincere about it all.

“He’s not going home until the war is over, you know. He’s valuable to everyone. He’s getting his own unit. He’s going to be fighting more. And you know as well as I do that there will be a lot of people who will want to kill him. There is already a bounty on his head in Germany. His death is worth almost a million dollars. How much will it be a year from now?”

“What’s your point?” he asked, even as he feels his stomach turning.

“You’re an amazing shot. You’re his best friend. He cares for you more than most men love their wives,” she said, and she lets that sit between them for a long uncomfortable moment. “If it were up to me you’d go home. You’re unwell and he worries about you. It puts him in danger. Doyou want him to survive this war?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then protect him. Take care of him. Be his friend or I will send youaway and I’ll do it myself.”

He bites back his first several responses, settles on a “Yes, ma’am,” that’s so rude his ma would have hit him with a wooden spoon, and heads out. Steve is in his tent signing his name to letters that will be sent to schools back in the states. Bucky looks over his shoulder, reading the letter. “Captain America says to reuse and recycle,” he murmurs and it’s so ridiculous it manages to make him smile.

“I also include tips on growing one’s own Victory Garden.”

“Well, of course. Because you had that giant farm in Brooklyn.”

Steve laughs weakly, turns to him, his expression soft and hopeful. “You came to see me.”

“I always come to see you.”

“No, you don’t. I come to see you.” Steve looks down, picks at his trousers absently. “I’m not seeing her, you know. I’ve never even kissed her.”

Bucky can and will put up with a lot, but Steve lying to him is out of the question. “You’ve got her picture in your fucking compass. Don’t bullshit me,” he says, furious enough that he’s tempted to just walk out of here and tell Peggy to shove it up her quim and send him back home.

Steve sounds hopeless. “I’ll throw it away in a moment if you tell me to. But I know you. You’ll get married when the war is over, Buck. I see the letters that come for you, I know you write them back. This isn’t different. And—”

“And you’ll marry Peggy?” he asks, because this isn’t like his letters at fucking all. She is here, she is ‘the one’, Bucky just writes any girl who writes him. And why wouldn’t he when there’s hours of fuck all to do and the letters are pristine,gossipy and smell ofperfume?

“If she’d have me. Yeah, I would marry her. How can I go back and watch you with someone else and have no one?”

Bucky snaps, he grabs Steve by the shirt, fisting his hand into it and leaning into him. “So, what the fuck do you want from me? You think you can have us both?”

“I want you! I will do anything for you. It’s you who doesn’t want _me_! Ever since I got this body you can barely look at me. And I don’t understand how you could like what I was more than this. When I was sick and almost dying all the time. I can still be good for you. I can be even better. I can take more. I’m perfect now. But you don’t—”

Tears glitter on his lashes and that makes Bucky hard. Always has, always will. The rage and anger shifts into lust and Bucky welcomes it. And what he had with Steve is something Peggy can’t offer. So maybe it is nasty and makes him a bad man to take what Steve is offering but he’s going to. He puts his free hand on Steve’s jaw, tilts him up so he’s looking up at him. “Show me how much you missed me then.”

Steve whimpers in relief, hands reaching for Bucky’s pants, fumbling and urgent. When Bucky doesn’t stop him he slides out of the chair and to his knees, Bucky letting go of his shirt so he doesn’t choke himself.

Instantly, Steve has his mouth on him, wet and hungry like he’s starving. His hands clutch at Bucky’s ass, urging him deeper and he hardens faster, fucks deep as soon as he’s able, forces his cock into Steve’s throat. It’s been so long since they’ve done this and he feels Steve gagging because they got the timing wrong.

Of course they got the timing wrong.

Steve clutches him tighter, like he’s read Bucky’s mind and is determined to get it right. Tears stream down Steve’s face as he looksup at Bucky. Pleasure pounds through him hot and distracting, so good it makes him happy to be alive, to have this with the man he’s loved and will love until the day he fucking dies.

Steve is holding onto him desperately while his throat is convulsing, pushing himself to take this for Bucky.Steve’s hands spasm and relax on his ass, sliding to Bucky’s thighs, squeezing, telling Bucky he needs air. Asking for it like the good boy he always was. Bucky wraps a hand around the back of Steve’s neck, keeping him there and Steve’s hand clutches at him desperately, pleading.

He waits longer, counts to ten slowly, need and anger fueling him onwards. Finally, Bucky pulls back with a groan. Steve shudders, coughs and gags but takes Bucky deep again before he’s settled. Trying to prove himself to Bucky.

He pets Steve’s hair, “Need you, babydoll, fuck you’re so good,” he says, grinding in and a shudder goes through Steve, one hand dropping down to his own crotch, rubbing frantically against his large bulge. Well, that’s changed too, apparently.

It plays out all over again, the choking and fluttering throat, the hand flex that says he needs air. Bucky making him wait, keeping him there with a strong hand. He withdraws and Steve gasps and coughs. “Thank you, Sir. Thank you.”

“I missed you calling me, Sir.”

“Please, Sir. Please use me,” Steve says, rolling his face against Bucky’s crotch.

“Do you have slick?”

“Spit. Or nothing. I can take it. You don’t have to worry about hurting me anymore. I heal so fast.”

He yanks Steve to his feet and turns him, shoves his chest down onto the desk. He’s panting and trembling as he rips at Steve’s clothes, pulling them open and shoving them down his legs. He catches sight of the sticky mess in his drawers, proof that his Stevie still likes it rough. “You came?”

“Missed you. And fuck you were so mean,” he said. Bucky chuckles. Steve’s face is pressed to the table, mouth open, eyes wide, trying to see Bucky’s face. Bucky spits on Steve’s hole, swipes up some of Steve’s own come and swipes it onto the head of his cock then presses hard and unrelenting until Steve exhales shakily, forces his body to relax and the head of his cock is suddenly in. Steve’s hands scrabble at the table, finding purchase. He goes up on his toes like he’s trying to get away.

“Got more than you bargained for, sweetheart? Want me to stop?”

“No. Ofcourse not. Fuck, feels like I’m falling,” he says, and his sphincter relaxes as a shudder goes through him. Bucky fucks hard into him, taking advantage of the moment and sinks in halfway. Steve bites his ownforearm, screaming into his flesh so no one hears him. He reaches around to Steve’s cock, finds him hard and dripping already, gathers it up and pulls out, slaps it on his cock and fucks back in again as fast and rough as he can. He isn’t taking Steve dry but he’s not prepped and it isn’t kind. “Come. Come,” Steve urges, brokenly.

Bucky laughs. “Me or you?”

He thrusts in and Steve yelps. And then he’s seated deep in Steve’s body, Steve’s passage clenching around him like a vise, trying to force him out. “Jesus, this would have wrecked you before, wouldn’t it sweetheart?”

A whimper of agreement.

“You can take me now though, can’t you? I may never prep you again. Never lube you again. Just get you open with my cock, come in you and keep you slick with my come. You can go talk to your lovely Agent Carter leaking my come, how would that be?”

Steve shifts his hips, “Don’t bring her into this or it’s….”

“What? What is it Stevie?” Bucky growls and shoves in so hard the desk rocks back and forth.He doesn’t give Steve a chance to answer, doesn’t want to hear how exceptions will now be made for Agent Peggy Carter. He fucks him carelessly, chasing his own pleasure. He knows it must burn Steve something awful, sees the tears go down his face.

“I love you,” Steve whispers, brokenly, trying to lie there and take it, his knuckles white.

“You are mine. Fucking mine. Do you understand me?” Bucky growls and he bends down, latches his teeth to the back of Steve’s neck and bites hard, hard enough to bruise, leaving a mark, hard enough that he tastes blood and he comes. He pulls out and finishes over Steve’s clothed back, marking him. He lets him go, stumbles back and almost falls down.

Steve pushes slowly to his feet, a string of come still dangling from his cock as he tucks himself away with shaking hands.

“When did you come?” Bucky pants, shocked he’s missed it twice. That’s how gone they both were apparently. Although, it never fails to surprise him how much Steve loves pain. How his body seems to get confused on what feels good and what’s bad.

Steve shakes his head. Confused. He’s swaying where he stands, lost and clearly out of it. Bucky sits in the chair and grabs Steve’s hand, pulls him closer then forces Steve down to his knees, puts Steve’s head on his thigh and strokes his hair as he continues to calm down.

They stay like that for a solid twenty minutes before Steve comes back to himself. He’d get like this back in Brooklyn sometimes too. If sex had been particularly good or intense it was like some part of Steve just left, floated away. Bucky’d been worried at first but it was clear Steve liked that, that it made him happier and invariably affectionate and sweet after. Steve had begun to chase it, wanting it harder and rougher as he sought that feeling.

Sometimes he’d wondered if they’d made monsters of each other. If what had started off as love and affection had become too dark. But now he’d been to war and he was pretty sure that anythingthat resulted in orgasms was good while anything that resulted in death of innocents was bad. There wasn’t much of an in-between truth be told.

He touches the mark on Steve’s neck, traces it with his finger. It might not be hidden by his collar. People might see. And even though Steve heals fast, Bucky isn’t sure he heals _that_ fast. A pang of regret goes through him. Did he fuck this up? Did he go too far?

Steve finally lifts his head. “Did you ask me something?”

“You mean half an hour ago? I asked when you came,” Bucky repeats, amused, still petting his hair, wanting to take care of his beautiful boy.

“Oh. Um, the bite? I think.” He puts a hand to his neck, sits back and blinks. His lashes are clumped and wet, tear tracks on his face.

“God, you’re lovely,” Bucky says. He rubs a thumb over Steve’s lower lip. “You gonna let me clean you up now?”

Steve nods, stumbles to his feet. Bucky is up with him, props him against the desk and orders him to stay there. He gets a cloth and dampens it, shifts Steve back down, face on the wood, sees Steve’s cock begin to fill again and grins.

“They did a number on you, didn’t they? You’ve already come twice.”

“So did you,” Steve says and Bucky frowns, tries not to think about that. Yeah, he’s different too.

He cleans him up tenderly. His back, his cock and then his hole, a smidge of pink on the cloth.

“I hurt you, babydoll,” he says, soft and sweet, kissing Steve’s cheek gently.

Steve makes a hmm of pleasure as Bucky kisses him. “Feels fine.”

“It’s just a little. Should kiss it better.”

“Not in the middle of a war, you shouldn’t.”

“My little comedian. Well, not little.” Steve tenses and Bucky urges him back up to standing. Bucky helps him fix his clothing, loving how Steve just stands there, cheeks pink, eyes still a little vacant, pupils wide, lips pink and swollen while Bucky fiddles with him.

“Such a good boy. Missed you, sweetheart.” Bucky kisses him deeply, claiming Steve’s mouth, tongue possessive and then bites Steve’s lower lip.

Steve moans. “Thank you, Sir.” Steve buries his face against Bucky’s neck like he used to when he was fragile and needy. “I missed you, too. I love you. Please don’t shut me out again,” he whispers. 

“You’re going to start eating more. Taking better care of yourself. You need to do that for me.”

Steve nods. “Anything for you. Always.” He takes Bucky’s hands in his, kisses his knuckles softly. “I love you, you know. I want to be yours. Whenever you want, if….”

“What?” he asks, squeezing Steve’s strong hands in his.

“If you need me. Want you to take what you need from me. I loved that. Where we were in Brooklyn.” He doesn’t mean the place, he means their relationship. How vulnerable and demanding they’d been with each other. Uninhibited in their lusts and perversions. Like each one was a gift, something new to treasure and uncover. And now that Steve wasn’t sick, now thathe healed so fast and was so strong it would make everything different between them again.

When they finally pull away for good, Steve touches his neck. “You can’t see it, right?”

“I hope not, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful next time. Promise.” And he means it. He shouldn’t have been so careless and jealous. Agent Carter makes him crazy. He’d never thought anyone could take his Stevie away from him, doesn’t think he can stand it if she does. The truth is he only knows who he is because Steve Rogers loves him.

If Steve doesn’t love him then he doesn’t want to live anyway. 


	3. Chapter 3

2020 (or whenever Steve’s stupid support group with god damned Joe Russo as our BS token gay character is).

 

 

 

Hank came up to Steve just as he was putting the chairs up. “You know, if you ever decide you want to talk to someone about Sergeant Barnes, I’m happy to listen.”

Steve fumbles the chair, plays it off with a chuckle. “Wow. Haven’t heard anybody say that name in a long time.”

“I read all the comics as a kid, couldn’t believe it when he turned out to still be alive, frozen just like you’d been. It was so tragic, I gotta tell you, it made me cry. Just seems like something you might want to share. It had to be complicated. Him being the Winter Soldier. Having to take him down like that.”

Steve crosses his arms as he faces Hank, nods goodbye to Mike, a man who’d started coming just a few weeks ago, after he’d tried to kill himself and failed. “I think I share plenty,” Steve said.

Hank backtracks, hands up like he’s surrendering. “Whoa. I’m not saying you don’t. It’s just, you mention Peggy and Sam, others you lost but you never talk about Bucky. Sometimes, the ones we avoid are the hardest of them all.”

He forces himself to calm, to behave like a grown up. “Yeah, sometimes I guess they are,” he says, and Hank lets it go, gives Steve a squeeze on the shoulder like they actually are friends and leaves. The room is empty. One of the overhead lights is buzzing and it doesn’t do much to alleviate the unrelenting darkness they’ve been living in for the last several years. He puts on his mask so he doesn’t inhale ash when he goes outside, then his helmet, gets on his bike and goes to see Nat. He hopes to god she’s doing better than he is.

He never mentions Bucky, Hank says. Which is ridiculous. All he does is think of and see Bucky. His death, him as the Winter Soldier, how he’d called Steve’s name as he died. His other friends would be disgusted if they knew just how much time Steve spent grieving Bucky. How little time he had for anyone else who’d died because of his hubris.

Nat wasn’t doing better than he was.

They carried on.

Then she died and Tony did too. It should have been him. He should have gone to Vormir. He should have gotten that damned glove on and made the snap. It wasn’t like anyone needed him here.

Days passed.

Sam smiled at him, Wanda did too. They were trying to get back to some semblance of normal. Steve, meanwhile, kept watching Bucky. Bucky who was just as distant as he’d been before. Steve had hugged him, trembled in his arms and barely stopped himself from begging Bucky to hurt him, to take him apart and put him back together again like he used to.

But Bucky didn’t want him like that. He and Bucky were ‘friends’ and that was all. He didn’t knowhow to just be Bucky’s friend. Not anymore. And it looked like Bucky didn’t know what to do with Steve either. Everything between them was just awful.

He’d thought for sure that once he’d caught up with him that everything would be okay. Nope.

Bucky looked at him and felt guilty. Steve knew Bucky was scared of hurting him, scared even of _touching_ him. God he needed someone to touch him. He needed someone to want him. He couldn’t do this anymore.

Peggy, he thought, almost desperately as he looked at Bucky walking away from him, again. “Do what you need to do,” Bucky had said, when Steve suggested returning the stones and mentioned seeing Peggy in the past.

He’d hoped for jealousy, remembered with distant memory how saying her name had once been enough to get anything he’d wanted from Bucky. Notanymore. He said her name and any progress they’d made got washed away. 

Steve wondered what would have happened if he’d gone up to her in the past. She wouldn’t have turned away from him. She would have smiled at him, held him. She’d fucking put her arms around him and he’d actually god damned touch someone. If that wasn’t reason enough to go, he didn’t know what was.

He’d returned the stones, he’d danced with Peggy and then he’d cried and she’d let him. She’d held him and told him it would be alright. She asked him how long he was staying and he didn’t know what to say to that.

He felt panicky in the past, worried about what might be happening to the people he loved and had just left behind. What if he went back and Sam was dead? Or Bucky? Or Wanda? If he stayed in the past he wouldn’t know. Couldn’t help. And even though he was tired, so fucking tired and felt like he couldn’t go on, he couldn’t live with that either. He didn’t know what exactly he’d expected from Peggy this time around butit was the exact same thing he’d gotten last time. A glimpse of what normal looked like, a chance at being a hero and perfect. And it just wasn’t him.

She wasn’t his, he wasn’t hers, and that was all there was to it.

He didn’t belong with her and he didn’t belong here. But he couldn’t fight anymore. He couldn’t look at his friends, see them rely upon him and then fail. And he would. He was barely clinging on. He’d go back, be put in charge, make the wrong decision and someone would die. And the odds were it wouldn’t be him.

The ultimate punishment. Captain America stepping up to lead and destroying everyone and everything he’d ever cared about.

He’d only survived the war because Bucky had supported him and loved him. That love was dead. He didn’t have Bucky. What was he supposed to do?

And then he came up with a plan.

His plan made perfect sense in an odd, shameful kind of way.

On the way back to 2023 he stopped off for a few things, his shield from 2016 and a photo-static veil to age him. He gave the shield to Sam, told him to take on the cause and Bucky had looked at him, so distant and resigned that Steve had almost yanked the veil off and begged him for forgiveness. His soul suddenly felt as old as he’d been pretending it was. 

They’d left him there. Didn’t ask too many awkward questions and then he disappeared into the distance. He caught sight of them on the news occasionally. Saw Fury doing the occasional public briefing and almost came out of hiding when Natasha returned with Thor, Peter and Rocket. But he hadn’t. Instead he’d gone down to his basement and he’d punched his punching bag until he almost slipped in his own blood and then he’d laid down and given up for so long that he should have died. Again.

And he didn’t.

It had been three months when there was a knock on the door. No one ever knocked on his door. Fear went through him, odd and unexpected. He opened it and saw Natasha there. He wanted to hug her but he didn’t think he’d earned the right.

“You don’t call. You don’t write. If you didn’t look like crap I’d be more annoyed,” she said, and just like that he was dragging her into his arms and holding her tight. She let him cry all over her and she even cried a little too, pushed him back and looked at his face carefully, like she could read all of his poor choices in the arch of his brow and the set of his mouth.

“How did you find me?” he asked.

“James told me.”

He swallowed hard. “James?” and it took a moment for him to realize she meant Bucky.

She shrugged and wandered into his apartment. “Most people call him James now. A few call him Sarge or Sergeant Barnes. He’s gone through quite the image rehabilitation in the last few months. He’s really stepped up.”

“That’s good.” She rolled her eyes at him and went into his kitchen. She opened cabinets and drawers like she owned the place and set about making a pot of coffee while he watched.

“How did he know where I was? How long has he known? Wait. Does he know I’m not old?”

“Steve. I know this is going to be difficult for you to hear, but yes, he does. They all do. They’re leavingyou alone, giving you your space but I’m not. That’s over. You need to come back in. The world needs you.”

It was like he’d been punched in the fucking gut. He fell into a chair. She took out mugs, got the cream and then watched him for a little while. Eventually, he realized she was waiting for a response. “No, that’s not a good idea.”

She looked around his apartment, the cold emptiness of it, the lack of decorations or personal mementos. “What’s your plan here? Sit around until you really do age and die?”

“No. I guess I just figured that if things got really bad I’d be around to help.But otherwise, I’m out, you know?”

She puts a hand over his. “This isn’t the kind of gig you get out of.”

“No, it’s the kind of job that kills you. But it didn’t kill me. It killed everyone else and left me here. I’m poison. I go back there and more people will die. You. Wanda, maybe Sam.”

“James?”

He only nods because he can’t say that name.

She shakes her head. “You don’t have any good choices. But you can’t rest. It isn’t in you. You tried that and it didn’t work. This hiding will kill you too, Steve. It’s destroying you. And if we all die and you’re not there, you won’t live with that and we both know it,” she said.

He couldn’t even deny it. His risk taking tendencies (which occasionally veered into the suicidal) hadn’t gone unnoticed by Bucky or Peggy back in the war and it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Shield.

She gave him a cup of coffee and by the time she was ready to leave he knew there wasn’t any other choice. Nat, at least, needed him. He might help keep his friends alive.

“Alright. I’ll come back.”

“Great. James will be thrilled.”

“Wait. He doesn’t know?”

“He suspects. I’m sure of it. He gave me your address after all.”

“Jesus, Nat. You don’t understand. He--“

“You had a bad break-up. I get it. But he was your best friend for a long time. Your brother…or something. And he loves you. We all do. Go see him. Talk to him. I promise you, he wants you back on the team just asmuch as I do.”

***

Which is how Steve found himself in front of Bucky’s apartment building later that day. Nat had said she’d get back to him with a time and aplace but he didn’t want to wait. Wasn’t going to have an intermediary for his relationship with Bucky. They were grown-ups. They could work it out. And now that the possibility of seeing him was there, Steve needed it.

The front door of Bucky’s building opened and a woman came out, beautiful, cheeks flushed, brown hair a fucked out mess. She turned around, threw her arms around Bucky’s neck and kissed him. He picked her up, stepped forward into the light with her as he kissed her.

Jesus fucking christ. He wanted to walk into traffic. 

She wiggled against him, tried to jump up into his arms and Bucky laughed. Fucking _laughed._ Head thrown back, eyes crinkling and unbelievably gorgeous. He pushed her away gently, gave her a kiss on the lips and she pouted. He said something to her and she turned and started walking away, a spring in her step. A promise for later.

Bucky was about to go back inside when he saw Steve sitting on his bike across the street. He froze in the doorway, the lingering smile wiped off his face. “Let me get my jacket. We’ll get something to drink,” he said, not inviting Steve up. All sorts of horrible scenarios came to his mind as to why Bucky wouldn’t invite him up. The different toys that might be around, his super senses might pick up the scent of sex, maybe the furniture was broken or…. Wow, if someone wanted to see him crumble, well this was how one went about breaking Steve Rogers into a million pieces.

Bucky came down a minute later, shrugging on a leather jacket, a baseball cap on his head. He nodded at Steve. “Nat found you, huh?”

“Yeah, she did.” He makes eye contact then breaks it immediately. “I’m sorry for the deception, Buck.” They start walking down the street.

“James.” Bucky corrects him and Steve stumbles. “There was only one person alive who called me Bucky and you left to start over so I thought I should too.”

“Right. James.” The letters made a word but damn it sounded wrong in his mouth. His chest felt tight, like he was going to have his first asthma attack of the century.

“Anyway, if you wanna come back and help us out, we want that too.It might take a few missions for everyone to get comfortable again but we can do this.”

Steve is overcome. He can only nod. He looks down, praying his internal devastation isn’t visible on his face. Bucky puts a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, pal. They’ll go easy on you.”

“Who was she?” he asks, because that’s the only thing that matters.

Bucky lets him go, steps back. “That’s a question you don’t get to ask me. You don’t have the right. If you ask me again I’ll punch you in the face, got it?” his voice is low and furious.

He laughs darkly. “I almost wish you would.”

“Yeah, I bet you do,” he says. “I don’t have time for coffee, after all. See you soon, Steve.” And that’s it. He leaves, walks away from Steve and doesn’t look back. Because he’s moved on with his life. Steve had been everything to him once. But that was a very, very long time ago now.


	4. Chapter 4

Six weeks later Steve finds himself decked out in a stripped down, non-patriotic version of his suit, using the shield T-Challa had given him and trying really hard to decapitate a giant alien. A blade is suddenly sticking out of its eye and it collapses sideways in a heap.

Bucky walks over to it, pulls his knife out and wipes it on his pants.

“I could have taken care of it myself.”

“Don’t I know it. And you’re welcome.” Bucky says, blank as hell and then he stalked off, found a new creature to kill and Steve channeled his grief into rage and killed a few more creatures, too. He caught Bucky (James, damnit) watching him a few times, squinting when Steve did something particularly vicious.

“Wanda, can you get the bodies into one place?” James asked, and Wanda used her powers to lift all the corpses and put them into a pile. James opened up a backpack, pulled out accelerant and an incendiary device and tossed them onto the pile.

“Clear back. If these fuckers explode like last time I don’t want to get covered in green goo again.”

Sam shuddered. “God, that was gross. Be glad you missed that one,” he said to Steve and clapped him on the back.

“How was it? The past. You miss it?” Sam asks, arms crossed and casual like he’s actually having a normal conversation with Steve while they watch James prepare to incinerate alien remains.

The question is unexpectedly emotional. “Missed you. And being part of a team. Part of something.”

“The teams in the past sucked, huh? Bad teams _and_ segregation. This is where you belong, Cap.”

Steve was so grateful he hugged him. Sam winced. “Christ, man. I just got kicked in the ribs!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Steve said, pulling back.

“You sappy bastards. Get the fuck in the truck and let’s get out of here,” James says, as he goes past them. Nat and Wanda are wiping each other’s faces with baby wipes. When Bucky gets to them, they both turn, reaching for him with mischievous smiles.

“I’m fine! What the hell makes you think I need two dames harassing me like this?”

“You love it,” Nat murmurs, and wipes his cheek then tucks her arm through his as they go to the truck. He extends a hand back and Wanda takes it, walking with him.

Sam sighs. “You believe this? You think all formerly brainwashed international assassins get this much love? No one’s wiping me down with baby wipes. And I have sensitive skin!”

He tries to laugh. “It’s like 1942 all over again. He’s a girl magnet. They love him. Every time he’d come home it’d be something, some girl stumbled into him and he was going on a date with her, some old lady needed help with her groceries and he’d bring home a fruit cake, it was just how it was.” The only woman who hadn’t chosen Bucky over him was Peggy. Figured.

“Wanda makes him cookies. Nat gave him a gun. Well, he gave her a new garrote, specially made and since then, putty in his hands,” Sam says, as they follow along.

He hears the two ladies laugh at something Bucky says and he holds out an arm, helping them into the truck like they’re hot house flowers instead of deadly and dangerous women. “Like how is that the same guy that almost killed us all? Anyway, I get it now. James is a good guy. I’m glad we got him back.”

Steve agrees. He manages a nod. Bucky had always disarmed everyone he met. Girls had always felt safe with him, practically swooned over him and Steve had been the weird friend that tagged along. And then things had changed, his relationship with Bucky had turned physical and what the two of them became with each other had been…well, it had been illegal and wrong. He’d genuinely believed that.

It didn’t mean either of them had wanted it any less. Oh no, they’d gone to dark places together.

Now he knew it had been a gift. He’d thrown away the other half of his soul and he was going to be punished for it the rest of his days. 

They got into the truck, Sam and Bucky started talking about going to a game and Steve closed his eyes, leaned his head back against the seat and prayed for sleep.

***

And that was how it went for months. He’d go on missions with various members of the team, never just him and Bucky, and things were vaguely normal.

Everyone noticed, of course. But they didn’t talk about it. It was just understood that James and Steve didn’t do missions alone together. And it was getting worse. Instead of Steve moving on he was becoming obsessed. He dreamed of Bucky dying, of Bucky getting engaged, and sometimes that Bucky killed him and Steve let him.

He started getting twitchy on missions, and he’d gotten hit more than once because his attention was on Bucky instead of himself. Bizarrely, Bucky had the same problem. He made stupid decisions when it looked like Steve was in danger. Fury had said their tension was affecting the team. They both knew it was true but had no idea how to fix it.

The threat of being sent to a shrink was growing. That terrified Steve. He wasn’t well. He knew it. He was pretty sure he shouldn’t be in the field and a shrink would see it. He’d be benched in a heartbeat, sent away almost certainly and unable to help. And helping was all he was good for these days.

***

They took out more aliens in the depths of the Canadian wilderness. They’d known it was going to be cold. And it was. But the snow was unexpectedly worse. Cold threw off the both of them. Thislandscape wassimilar to where Steve had gone down and also like Siberia where the Winter Solider had spent so much time. It was also just like when Bucky had fallen from the train.

Steve and Bucky were back to back, breathing heavily, working together on this mission in the frozen wilds of nowhere because it had been an emergency and everyone else was busy. Green alien blood was steaming in the snow all around them, the conditions deteriorating rapidly and their radio crackling almost continuously.

As the aliens had erupted around them, not just half a dozen but wellover two dozen angry and snarling beasts, they’d both reverted to how things used to be, watching each other’s six, protecting each other in a way that was easy and necessary. It felt so good Steve didn’t ever want it to end. They got the last one and Bucky put a hand on Steve’s arm, keeping him next to him. Even though they weren’t friends anymore he understood why. The only thing worse than seeing each other was not seeing each other.

He and Bucky finished stripping the aliens for tech, put dissolving agents on them to sanitize the area and headed out. The truck was frozen and it was a damned white out. Steve could barely see his hand in front of his face.

“Come here,” Bucky shouted, and Steve ran into the back of him, the snow so blinding he hadn’t realized how close he was.

“Sorry.”

“No, that’s fine. We’re gonna get separated if we’re not careful,” Bucky said, and he brought out a short length of rope, slipped it through spare carabiners and attached them to each other.

Nat’s voice crackled over the line. “Sergeant Barnes, do you copy?”

“Copy,” he shouted, putting his hand to his ear to try and hear better. He put a hand on Steve’s shoulder as if he was worried he might lose him. Steve felt his body warm and leaned closer without thinking.

“Conditions have deteriorated and the storm is expected to worsen. Coming in from the East. We’ve got your location and if you veer south there is an outpost where you can wait out the storm. Hopefully we can send in a chopper tomorrow morning.”

“Distance to outpost?”

“Two miles.”

“Okay. That’s what we’ll do. I’ll let you know when we get there. Barnes out,” he says, and he takes his hand off of Steve’s shoulder and gestures to him.

“You wanna get out your compass. Make sure we’re headed the right way?” he asks, voice flat.

Steve pulls out his compass. If Bucky notices that Peggy’s picture is gone, he doesn’t comment. They head out, the storm getting worse and after a mile he has to stop.

“What is it?” Bucky asks, pulled to an abrupt halt.

“Do you smell sulfur? Like rotten eggs?”

“I do.”

“What the hell is it?”

“Don’t know. Let’s keep going and hope it passes.” They kept walking and 800 feet later there’s a giant cracking sound under Steve and he falls into a thermal pool.

Steam rose around him, the water was downright boiling, warming him up where he’d become increasingly cold and making his skin feel like it was on fire. Bucky was pulling him out almost instantly, forcing them to move as quickly as they could so they didn’t linger and risk falling into any other springs.

“I can’t reach Natasha to get the damned map,” Bucky shouted. They’d expected it to show up by now. Steve’s teeth were chattering. The warmth was long gone and his suit was beginning to crunch with ice as they walked. And then somehow he was on his knees and Bucky was beside him.

“Fuck. Come on, buddy. Let’s getyou up. We’re almost there. You can do it.”

“I can do it,” he said, because he couldn’t imagine moving another step forward. He wanted to lay down for a moment, just a small rest but that was how people died. He knew that. He did.

“There’s that positive attitude.”

“Buck. You better make me,” he said, and Bucky swears, brushes at Steve’s face. “I’m not cold anymore,” Steve slurred, slowly.

He felt Bucky’s body tense against his. “Well, that’s a fucking problem. Because it’s colder than anything out here. Okay, here we go, sweetheart. Up and at em.” He hauled Steve up and Steve moaned, the sound odd and interrupted between his chattering teeth.

Steve kept trying to put one foot in front of the other but most of his weight was on Bucky who was half dragging him forward. Finally, he stopped and Steve was so relieved he almost cried.

“What’s that?” Bucky asked, head turned to the right.

Steve had no idea. He’d look in a minute. Turning his head was a lot of work.

“I think that’s it,” Bucky said, voice low with determination as he pulled them to the right. Looked like more white blizzard to Steve but speaking would require too much energy so he let it go. And then suddenly Bucky was pushing him away, propping him against something, a wall, as it turned out, and he aimed a kick at the door. It splintered but didn’t open so he did it again and Steve reached for him, needing to touch Bucky.

“Bucky,” he managed. “Thank god. If I’m going to die. Wanted it to be with you. I love you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. All one mistake after another.”

“You’re not going to die,” he growled, and he hauled Steve into a darkened room. He put Steve down to the ground and found the lights, flicked them on, got the door closed and looked around. He started a fire, dragged out sleeping bags from the corner, put hot water on and then turned to Steve.

“Let’s get you out of those clothes.”

“Waited decades to hear that again,” he muttered. Bucky unzipped his top and ice sprinkled around them like diamonds.

“Jesus, fuck. What a disaster,” Bucky said, and then he got Steve’s boots and socks off, his pants too and shoved him into a sleeping bag. The kettle went off and he made instant coffee and then stripped off his own sodden clothes. He grabbed another sleeping bag and put it on top of Steve then shoved himself in next to Steve, zipping them both in tight.

“You’re a damned human icicle,” Bucky said, shivering as he pressed himself up against Steve. Time passed in some strange way and Steve could feel Bucky touching him, murmuring to him, bitter liquid forced into his throat seemingly constantly. He began to shake and shiver and Bucky rubbed at him harder, held him tighter and finally he began to warm. He blew on Steve’s hands, had Steve tuck his feet against his shins and eventually Steve thought he might make it out of there alive.

“Turn over, Stevie. If you’ve been waiting for your chance to be the big spoon, you’re gonna need to wait even longer,” he joked, then helped Steve turn over. He wrapped his arms around Steve and pressed up close, his chest to Steve’s back. It was so good, something he’d longed for for so long and been denied, thought he’d never have again that tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. Oh god, he was going to cry wasn’t he? Because it was only life or death that meant Bucky would be this sweet to him. This is what it took for him to get Bucky’s touch.

“I don’t want to be the big spoon,” he said, and he wrapped his hands around Bucky’s arm, pulling it in tighter, wanting him closer.

“Yeah, I know. You’re okay. We’re gonna make it out of here.”

“I don’t care. If I’m with you, I don’t. Maybe better to die here.”

Bucky’s silent for a long time. The wind howled, the fire glowed brightly and Steve warmed. Bucky released him, tried to give him some space.

“No. Please. I’m cold,” Steve whispers.

Bucky comes back to him, pressing in again and Steve’s cock is instantly hard. How many times had they had this, Steve tucked up in bed and Bucky pressing up close, letting Steve know he wanted him. “I’d give anything to go back, Bucky.”

“James,” he said, and Steve didn’t bother trying to fight it anymore. He cried, feeling broken and hopeless.

“No, Stevie. Stop,” James said, sounding pained. He pressed his nose against Steve’s neck, an exhale against his skin and he wished to hell it meant something. Finally, they both went to sleep.

The next morning when he awoke Bucky was still there, wrapped around him. “Remember when I got Scarlet Fever and I shook for like three days?”

“Yeah, and I put a belt in your mouth so you wouldn’t chip a tooth with all the chattering of your teeth. I remember.”

“I think I was colder last night than that. And that’s my go to ‘once I was so cold I thought I would die’ memory. And you were in that one too. The furnace that warmed me back to life.”

“Yeah, I’m there for all the good stuff,” Bucky said, and rolled onto his back. Cold air slipped into the bag, down Steve’s back and he shivered.

“We should get up. The storm died in the night. I think they’ll come get us soon and I don’t want to give anyone the wrong idea.”

Steve closed his eyes. “No, wouldn’t want that.”

Bucky unzipped the bag and got out and Steve burrowed deeper into the nest, having no desire to get out. Ever. He heard James getting dressed.

“Hey losers, anyone want to go to Hawaii?” Nat shouted from outside their little room.

“Is it really Hawaii or back to the cold of New York?” James asked.

“You caught me, it’s the cold of New York. Still, got room for two. Can I come in? Are you two decent?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?” James said, and went to the door, pulling it open. He’d pulled his pants back on, dried from the fire and Nat gave them both an appraising look.

“Well, I brought clothes anyway,” she said, and dropped a bundle down to the ground. “Meet you on the helicopter when you’re ready,” she said, and left them there.

Steve gets up gingerly and reaches for the clothes. His hands are shaking. And he isn’t even cold.

 

***

 

They got onto the helicopter and Bucky instantly wants to know what they have for food. Nat pulls out a few snickers bars and a giant bag of almonds. Bucky holds out two snickers bars and then the almonds to Steve.

“Eat it.” He orders.

Steve pauses, flicks a glance at Bucky who’s mouth is a hard line. “You don’t get to do that,” Steve says.

“Fuck you. You’ve lost weight. You’re not taking care of yourself. This has nothing to do with _that_.”

“So, I’ll just click this button here and you two can have your own private conversation. I’ll move up front. See ya,” Nat says, and she undoes her seatbelt and moves to the front of the helicopter.

“Traitor,” Steve says, but Nat doesn’t respond. Apparently she really isn’t able to hear them.

“So, eat it,” Bucky says, and eats a bite of his own Snickers like he’s showing Steve how to do it. He’s tempted to throw it at him but he is hungry and that’s not going to get him anything he wants. Bucky doesn’t want him. Bucky is his leader and that’s all. He eats the Snickers.

“Now the other one,” he says, and he gets a bottle of water and hands it to Steve.

Steve drinks the water and eats the Snickers bar. “The almonds,” Bucky says.

“You don’t have to watch me do it.”

“That’s true.” And that’s it. He literally says nothing else. And he does watch Steve do it.

Steve turns the package over in his hands, thinking about it. Is he hungry? Well, yeah. So he should do this. He opens the bag and starts to eat.

“Hey.”

Steve makes eye contact. Bucky leans closer. “You’re going to put on ten pounds. You understand me?”

Steve throws the bag of almonds at Bucky, hears them scatter everywhere. Nat turns around to look at them, wide eyed. Her head whips back around like she hasn’t seen anything.

“Did you really just do that? You threw food at _me_?”

“You don’t control me. You don’t own me. I’m not _yours_! If I go back to the past or I starve to death it’s nothing to you, _James_.”

Bucky scrubs a hand along his rough jaw. He gets up, taps Natasha, points a thumb at the back evicting her. Natasha gets up, fiddles with their comms units so they’re all linked up again and Bucky takes her seat. Natasha sits next to him, straps in again and leans her head on his shoulder, links her fingers with Steve’s and after awhile hands him a tissue. He wipes the tears from his face, surprised to find he’s been crying. Again.

“You’re going to be okay, Steve. You are. Maybe you should come stay with me for a little while,” she says. If Bucky hears them he doesn’t give any indication that he cares.

***

The request from medical for him to go in and get a check up comes within twenty-four hours. He leaves with an order to gain weight and an appointment with the staff psychologist. He sends James a text when he gets back to his place. He knows he shouldn’t, that if he gave it time he’d change his mind but he can’t help it. “Fuck you.”

The response comes two hours later. “10 lbs. 4 trips to the shrink and you’re back on rotation.” Steve throws his phone against the wall.

***

Steve gains the weight, visits the shrink who is still playing nice and letting him deflect and bullshit his answers. He hopes he can stop seeing her before he has to tell her something real.

He finally gets to send James a text on his new phone, a whole three weeks later. “Done.”

He gets back a thumbs up. Thor had given him some Asgardian ale. Steve drinks it.

***

 

 

The next mission comes a week later. A stolen container of plutonium is on its way to be picked up by terrorists. It’s bought and paid for. Now it’s a question of transport.

Fury has briefed James and given him lead on the mission. He’d asked him a few times if maybe he wanted to sit this one out, but no, he doesn’t.

Everyone is assembled and he walks them through it. “We hit the train as it comes out of this tunnel,” he says, pointing to the screen. “We board, obtain the plutonium and make our exit here,” he says, pointing to a map. “We have six minutes to find it, grab it and get out.”

“Sam, it’s you, me, Nat and Wanda. We leave in an hour. Dismissed,” he says. Steve stands up, waits until everyone has cleared out before coming up to Bucky.

“You have no right to keep me off this mission.” Steve is pissed, a muscle ticking at the corner of his jaw.

“You know very well why you’re not going on this mission. I’m not going to pretend with you today. I have to go get ready.”

“If that’s true, then you shouldn’t go either. You’re the one who fell off the fucking train.”

“Maybe you’re right, but I am.” He leans in close to Steve, anger vibrating off of him. “And I’m the fucking team leader so I get to make the call.”

Steve swallows hard, reaches out to touch James, lightly touches his arm and Bucky’s nostrils flare as he looks down at his arm like Steve has just spit on him. “Don’t do this to me,” Steve says, willing to beg because this is something he can’t endure. He just can’t. “You can’t get on a train in god damned Siberia and then jump out of it without me. I can’t sit here while you do that,” he says. “I swear, Bucky. James. I swear, if you do this to me I’ll eat my own gun.”

Bucky flinches. “That doesn’t help your case. It makes me think I should get you fucking locked up.”

“Why do you think I can’t handle it if you can?”

He thinks Buckywon’t answer. Buckycrosses his arms, gives Steve an unreadable look. Could be pity. “You’ve always blamed yourself for what happened to me. It’s too traumatic. Your head won’t be in the game. It’s just not worth the risk.”

“Look me in the eye then because I mean it. I won’t be here when you get back.” 

“Damn you, Steve. This is bullshit,” he says, and Steve thinks he’s about to throw his stupid clipboard at the wall. But he doesn’t.

“I can do this. I’ve just been cleared. I’m still seeing the shrink, I’ve gained the weight you wanted, and you’ve got a lot of other people there just in case. Please. Please, James.”

Bucky flinches. He tells Steve through gritted teeth that he can go and then he walksout.Steve wants to tell Bucky that he won’t regret it, but it seems like bad luck to put that out into the world.

***

 

The plan changes. Sam stays outside the train, on top, and if something goes wrong he’s got wings and can help. Bucky lets Steve stay with him and the relief he feels is indescribable. They go through five guys, and Bucky gets his hands on the plutonium. He even gets up onto the roof of the train car, hands it off to Sam and all with a minute til extraction remaining.

Thegunshots come from behind them. He throws himself towards Bucky, a bullet hits him in the thigh and he falls to his knees.

He throws his shield, hits the gunman who flies off the side of the train. Stevecan see the blood, glinting darkly from several feet away. Bucky’s eyes are wide with pain and shock.

Steve forces himself to his feet just as Bucky collapses to his back. “Bucky!” he shouts, uncaring who might hear him, lost to panic. Bucky is pale, he’s losing blood fast and the window to get off the train is closing in. Nat is suddenly next to him.

“Time to go,” she shouts over the roar of the wind.

“He’s hit. He’s hurt. I don’t know,” Steve says, helpless. If there was a plan he doesn’t know it. Someone could walk up to them and shoot them all right now and he wouldn’t know what the fuck to do.Terrified, his breathing is coming raggedly.

Nat drops down beside them, connects Bucky to the rope and drags him to the edge. She’s going to push him over the side and off the train. He can’t. He just can’t.

She must see something on his face because she pulls out a pistol and aims it at him. “Get yourself sorted and go. You’re compromised. You shouldn’t be here. He’ll die if you don’t do what you’re supposed to do right now.”

“No, no,” he says, panicking.

“Sorry,” she says, and she shoves Bucky over the side of the train and he falls. Without a cry because he’s unconscious. Steve jumps after him. He didn’t clip in. He’s just falling. Down towards a ravine. He can’t even see Bucky. He’s looking, frantically looking. Sam grabs him and he’s suddenly stopped falling, feels a tremendous pull of gravity as he starts rising again. Sam pulls him up to the Quinjet, plunks him down in the middle of the floor and swears at the stupidity of everyone.Bucky is there, slumped against the wall but seated. Alive. Nat is on her knees before him, bandaging him up.

She looks momentarily afraid by whatever she sees on Steve’s face. She says something in Russian and Bucky’s eyes open. “Steve!” he hears, and it’s Bucky calling to him. “Hey! Look at me. I’m fine. Bullet went clean through. Just made me woozy for aminute. I’m okay.”

Steve doesn’t understand. All he hears is Bucky screaming, falling as he dies, he feels that grief he felt then when he first lost him, actually turns toward the open bay door and takes two steps before Sam and Nat both grab him back.

“What the fuck?” Sam says, and Steve is helpless, looks back at Bucky, can’t hardly see him through the tears.

“Come here, sweetheart,” Bucky says, softly and Steve goes. Because that’s the voice of the man who loves him and owns him and Steve does whatever that voice tells him to. “Come on, sit next to me.”

Steve is moving forward but he stops. Sit next to him? That can’t be right. He looks down at the ground, not understanding because he belongs at Bucky’s feet.

Reality comes back a little. Just enough for him to remember thatBucky doesn’t want him. “Not even Bucky. James. Maybe…Just jump then,” he might say that out loud but later he doesn’t remember. 

It’s his dazed confusion that means Nat takes him by surprise, throws a little disc at him and shocks him until he falls unconscious, hitting the metal ground with a clang.

He wakes up as the plane is landing. He shivers hard, is shaking and cold. He has no idea what happened, what year it fucking is. Bucky isn’t there and he pushes himself up, a strange noise of pain coming from him.

“Hey. I’m here. Come on, you gotta getup and off this plane now,”Bucky says, squatting down next to him. He touches Steve on the shoulder, just a quick grasp before letting him go and it’s so much more than he’s had from Bucky in decades that he almost moans.

He sits up and Bucky gets to his feet with a wince, puts a hand over his side. Steve wants desperately to offer an arm or a shoulder or something for him to lean on but he doesn’t get to touch Bucky. He forfeited that right a long time ago. His thigh has been bandaged while he was out and apparently it’s nothing to worry about. Steve has bigger problems is what no one is saying out loud.

Bucky is staring at him like he’s a dog with a bad case of mange, something to be pitied and nothing anyone want to get too close to. Of course not. He should be dead.

Steve sways and shivers some more and Bucky nods. “Come on, Steve,” he says, voice low and he walks off the plane. He goes straight to Steve’s apartment, walking slowly and making sure Steve is there beside him the whole time. Sam and Nat are trailing at a distance, quiet and frightened. Steve doesn’t really understand why. They stand in front of the door.

“You got a key?”

Steve blinks at him. Bucky tries the door and it opens. “Jesus Christ, Rogers.” Bucky looks beyond him to the others. “I’m fine. He’ll be fine. Thanks guys.”

“He’s not fine,” Nat says.

“I know. But, it will keep until tomorrow. I’m gonna stay with him.”

“Well, that’s something,” Sam says, and that’s apparently good enough because Nat and Sam turn away. Bucky leads them both inside. Goes to the couch and sits down. There is a ringing in Steve’s ears and the shivering is getting worse.

“Come on, Stevie. Don’t crash right there. Come here,” he says, and he puts a pillow down on the ground between his legs with a wince. Steve stumbles closer, falls on his knees, pain reverberating through him.

“Onto the pillow, sweetheart, come on. You’re almost done,” he says, but it’s like he’s being talked to from very far away and down a deep tunnel. A hand in his hair is fisting tight, and he gasps. He gets a slap across the face and comes back to himself a little. “Closer. Pillow. Now.” Short, clear commands in his Sir’s voice so he complies.

He moves forward, onto the pillow, the hand in his hair disappears, sweeps through the long strands twice and then Bucky isn’t touching him anymore.

Steve needs to be taken care of. He gets taken care of by taking care of his Sir. He does the only thing he can and buries his face in Bucky’s crotch, breathing him in, opening his mouth and pressing into the fabric, desperate to be used.

A metal hand is in his hair, pulling him back. Has he not been good? Bucky is staring at him hard, his cheeks flushed. “Please, Sir,” he says.

“I’m not your Sir,” Bucky says, and he urges Steve’s head to his thigh instead. “It was a bad day. I feel it too. We’ll be alright,” Buckysays, and his typical distanttone is gone, his voice is husky. “It was a lotfor both of us. Fucking hell.”

With his flesh hand he presses on Steve’s cheek, urging him to stay there. To not move any closer. His Sir doesn’t want him. Won’t let him. He fucked it up. He’s not even good enough to suck his cock now. The idea that his Sir would rather have nothing than him is soul destroying.

Steve is crying. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re crashing. That’s all. You got triggered on that damned mission, I knew I shouldn’t have sent you on it. That’s my fault. My fault, Stevie. And I almost lost you too. But you can’t do that. I’m not your Sir and I’m not going to use you like that. Hell, I’m pretty sureyou don’t even know what year it is. But, I won’t leave you tonight, though. Promise. We’ll work it out.”

“No. I’m yours. I am. And I’m sorry. It’s all my fault.” Because nothing is Sir’s fault. Bucky has always done right by him. Steve is the one who fucked up. Who wasn’t worthy. Who chose wrong and ruined his whole life. And he realizes where he is and what year it is thank you very much.

He’d sort of known but it waslike it hadn’t mattered. Years,decades, everything that had happened was irrelevant. The only important thingwas Bucky. But that’s nothis life anymore.

Fuck.

“Why can’t I go back? It would all be different if I could. I’m sorry. I love you. I’m sorry,” he says, and he wants to die. He wants to end it all. That’s what his Sir deserves. The level of devotion he should give. To atone. Maybe the only pleasure he can give is just being gone. For good.

A slap across the face, awkward in angle and his head slides up Bucky’s thigh a little. He lifts his head. “No. None of that, you hear me? That is not alright. I won’t stand for you saying that. You don’t get to kill yourself.” Had he said that aloud?

He can’t do anything right. Sir doesn’t want him, will never want him again. He fell off that train and it was Steve’s fault. All his fault. He tries to get to his feet, but Bucky grabs him hard, forces him back to the ground. Steve pats his side, looking for weapons and he doesn’t really know why. Steve is no one, nothing but failure.

He must have said that too because Bucky’s eyesare wide and scared. A long moment passes where Bucky stares at him, looks into his eyes like he’s trying tofind Steve’s soul. Steve’s eyes blur, the blue of Bucky’s eyes expanding and filling his vision until he blinks.

Bucky frowns, opens his mouth, closes it again. “You need to stay here. I’ve gotta sleep, I can’t do this right now. I just….” He runs a hand over his face, his cheeks go pink. “Fine. Just get my cock out then. Warming only. Don’t do anything to get me hard. Understand? Do it,” he orders and Steve does.

Instantly.

He knows this task. He’s a place for Sir to rest. He’s done this a lot. Been a hole, been good and quiet. Still. So still that Bucky can nap while he holds him in his mouth.

He’d loved it. He sighs and reaches for Bucky’s pants, hands fumbling the zipper. He’s salivating at the very idea of this, a pavlovian response that’s still there after all this time. It’s like his god damned trigger word.

He opens wide, takes him in to his mouth carefully, doesn’t lick or suck or do anything. He just holds him there.There is nothing else for him to do but stay here until Bucky tells him to do something else.

He’s just this now.

Just a place for Sir to rest his cock. Saliva fills his mouth and he needs to swallow but he’s not supposed to. Bucky’s hand goes back into his hair, petting him gently, hand trembling in exhaustion and then resting heavily on Steve’s head.

Finally, Steve has no choice but to swallow or choke on his own spit and so he does, and Bucky moans softly, the hand tightening in his hair, hips twitching up into his mouth the tiniest amount.

Steve breathes him in, man and sweat and perfection. He tastes him on his tongue and it’s what he’s always liked the best, Bucky at the end of a mission, sharp and more and real and his. He gets this visceral, primitive satisfaction when he gets Bucky like this.

He loses himself to that. He doesn’t know for how long he drifts but it’s long enough for him to calm down, for his own breathing to settle, for his eyes to begin to close as he listens to Bucky’s even breathing.

Steve feels his heartbeat, the pain in his knees, the discomfort of his own leaking cock, hard and needy between his legs, untouched which is appropriate. It isn’t about him. This is about Sir.

He drifts. The hand on top of his head slides off and Bucky wakes, looks down at him through bleary eyes and blushes. He traces the seam of Steve’s mouth where his cock is warm and resting and even though Steve is drooling now, the only thing he could come up with so he wouldn’t swallow and disturb Bucky’s nap, Bucky doesn’t seem to mind. He looks at his watch. Blinks.

“You’ve been there for two hours. How do you feel now, Stevie?”

Steve blinks, long and slow, twice. Once for no and twice for yes was their signal when they did this. They’d done it a lot, once upon a time. This had been one of those magical things they’d discovered together and it had become almost a ritual. Because the moment Steve got his mouth on Bucky he dropped into what people now called sub-space.

That’s what Bucky had taught him to do, what he’d learned and who they’d become together. Steve’s cock would become hard and aching and Bucky loved the power of it all, found it relaxing. At least for awhile. But it always ended with him fucking Steve’s throat.

Sometimes he’d let Steve come, and sometimes he wouldn’t because he liked to keep Steve ‘sweet.’ And it had been the worst sort of compliment because Steve wanted it to be true, but he hated how frustrated he had to get in order to hear Bucky say it and mean it, that Steve was the sweetest. It was perfect. It was torture.

It was perfect _because_ it was torture.

A corner of Bucky’s mouth twitches in amusement. “Two blinks. Some things I don’t forget,” Bucky says. “Off then,” he says, and he makes a little hand gesture, a wave towards Steve’s face. Casual dismissal.

Steve pulls off, confused. Swallows and wipes his chin as he sits back. Bucky tucks himself back into his pants, wet and just as he was beginning to harden.

“I hope you don’t hate me tomorrow. We’ll talk about what happened, sort it out cause god knows I crossed a line here. You can sleep on the couch or at the foot of the bed. Your choice,” he says, and he pushes to his feet, hissing in a breath at his wound. He limps slowly towards the shower.

“Let me wash you,” Steve begs. “Please.”

Bucky shakes his head, is looking anywhere but at Steve. “That’s not a good idea. You’re down too far to make that call and I’m injured. I need sleep. We don’t want to fuck this up any further, got it?”

No, no he doesn’t ‘got it’. But Bucky is limping out of the room and to the bathroom. He closes the door, Steve even hears the flimsy lock click against him and then the shower turns on.

He doesn’t know what to do now. He should be in there with him, washing him, helping him. He gets to his feet and goes to the kitchen, drinks water, eats a banana and a protein bar and then goes to the bedroom, bringing a banana and protein bar for Bucky too. Just in case.

Bucky’s apartment at the new compound is next door and he keeps his key on the ledge of the doorframe like he has for decades and Steve goes in and gets him some clothes to change into.

He sees Bucky’s dirty laundry and strips out of his uniform then puts on one of Bucky’s t-shirts. It smells like him. It’s so good he almost cries. He needs this. He can’t go on without this. He just can’t.

He goes back to his place, folds up a hoodie of Bucky’s, using it as a pillow and lays down next to the bed. Bucky comes in a few minutes later, sees Steve there, takes in the shirt, the pullover as pillow and the tears trailing down Steve’s face. “God, you always did know how to get exactly what you wanted from me, didn’t you?”

“I got you clothes,” he says. Bucky pulls on the sleep pants with a groan and lays down. “Fuck this. Come on, Stevie. In the bed.”

Steve doesn’t even think about arguing. He is up and in the bed instantly, close to Bucky but not touching. He hasn’t been invited to touch. “Covers now,” Bucky orders and Steve gets the blankets over them.

“Shit. Steve, the light is on. Turn out the light.” He gets out of bed, goes to the bathroom to pee and wash his hands and his face and then comes back, turns out the light and climbs into bed. “I didn’t even ask you. I’m sorry. Whatever drugs they gave me on the plane were good. You wanna shower?”

“Would you use me if I did?” he asks, quietly.

“No, Stevie. I’m not going to use you. And you’re not to encourage it, understand? You try and it’s the floor for you.” Steve curls up on himself, as best he can while staying as close to Bucky as possible.

“Don’t leave me. I’ll be good.”

“Not leave. I’d be in the same room with you but we can’t do that,”Bucky says, and his voice is getting that sleepy roughness he always has right before he passes out.

“Whatever you want. I swear, Bucky. I love you. It’s only you.” Because he knows Bucky is keeping him at a distance because of what he’s done. That he’s hurt Bucky because of Peggy. He knows saying it won’t help a damn but he has to anyway.

Bucky’s breathing is evening out, falling asleep. Steve’s pretty sure Bucky didn’t even hear him.


	5. Chapter 5

Bucky wakes up in the morning to find a cup of coffee, still hot, next to the bed. He shifts himself slowly and painfully upto a sitting position and takes a sip. There’s toomuch cream and sugar. Justhow Steve always makes it. Bucky loves it but he never makes his coffee this way. After what they drank in the war, anything is goodso why add the sugar? But it is delicious, he thinks, burning his mouth as he takes too large of a sip.

And he suspects that from now on he’ll make himself a cup of coffee and wonder why he isn’t having it like he wants it. Who’s he proving anything to by abstaining from the good stuff?

Alas, this coffee situation is basically a metaphor for his relationship with Steve and he knows it. Steve gives good…coffee. Bucky would love to have his Steve/coffee all the time. Bucky doesn’t. He’s trying to do the right thing, save the sugar and the calories. No one is giving him a parade for denying himself Steve Coffee Rogers. If he thinks about it long enough he can probably work his own bitterness in there too, something to do with the flavor.

“This is stupid,” he says, to himself. “Talking to yourself is worse.”

And before he can start agonizing over what he had Steve do last night, the man himself comes in, carrying a plate of bacon and eggs. He wants to make a joke about Steve being a ‘keeper’ and kiss him in gratitude. But they don’t do that. Always so hard to remind himself that they don’t do that because that is over.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to go to the trouble,” he says, instead. Giving Steve a smile he hopes is both grateful and distant. Steve flinches so who the fuck knows what he accomplished.

“Fury has called you a few times already. Wants you in medical as soon as you’re up and around.”

Bucky lifts his shirt, looks at the wound. It’s pink and angry looking but basically healed so long as he doesn’t twist or do sit-ups for a day or two. “You know what, let’s take this to the kitchen table,” Bucky says, and hands the plate back to Steve.

He goes to the bathroom and brushes his teeth then goes out to the kitchen. Steve is drinking a cup of coffee and flipping through his newspaper. He looks up from under his lashes and it’s like someone has punched Bucky in the heart. There is nothing more beautiful than Steve Rogers and it’s the little things, the non-Captain America things that viscerally remind him of that.

How many times has Steve given him that look over the course of their long lives? It’s like so many Brooklyn mornings and it makes him want to run away from Steve and the power he will always have over him.

His plate is on the table with another full cup of coffee. Bucky gestures to the seat across from him. Steve’s look darts to the floor at Bucky’s feet and then away. He’s so transparent. And there is no fucking way he’s letting him sit down beside him like he’s still Bucky’s.

And any part of him that wants to relent is squashed ruthlessly. All it takes is thinking of Peggy, of Steve in his damned photo-static veil, and the anger he feels clears the storm of love and desire away like cancer causing sunshine.

“I need to apologize for last night. That was inexcusable. I can’t blame being injured or the drugs they gave me. You were triggered and frankly I really worried you were going to do something crazy. You went down hard and I was exhausted. I didn’t know what to do and I made a bad call. I should have had someone stay with you. Take you home.”

He can feel Steve getting angrier with each word he says. “Then why didn’t you?”

Bucky takes a bite of eggs, wanting a moment to compose himself. “We all saw you going for that exit yesterday. You jumped off the train and almost died. Thank fuck Sam was there to catch you. After everything we’ve been through, I didn’t trust anyone else to keepyou safe last night. And, it was memories of us that got you to that place. It just seemed like it had to be me. I still think my only other option would have been to have them lock you up last night.”

Steve runs a hand through his hair a few times and looks like he’s about to get out of his seat and run away. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It had to be you.”

“But, Steve, having you do that…serve me like you used to, that’s, that was wrong.”

“Don’t say that to me,” Steve says, voice low.

Bucky stops chewing and swallows, wipes his mouth with a napkin, drinks water, but there is no more stalling. And the truth is Bucky is pissed. He is so fucking angry and at his wits end that he’s worried about what he might say.

Steve beats him to it. “If you knew how long I’ve wanted you to do that, that I still come thinking of you using me that way, I--”

“Fuck you!” Bucky says, soft as death. His voice is shaking. “You were the love of my god damned _life_. _You_ didn’t want _me_. You chose her twice over me. So you don’t get to act like the fucking victim.”

“Bullshit.” 

“Excuse me?”

“You know that’s not how it fucking happened. What could I have done? I gave you everything I could but you wanted more. We carried on with each other for the rest of the fucking war. She wasn’t a part of that. I gave you everything I could at every opportunity.” Steve stands up, starts pacing. “I watched the doctor who gave me this body die because of it. I saved people, they looked at me like a hero. I was a symbol. That obligation came first. You wanted us to get caught and you didn’t care about the consequences. It wasn’t about her it was about you, Bucky.”

“Fuck you, it was about her! It was _always_ about her.”

“So you could marry some broad and I couldn’t?

Bucky is out of his chair, barely able to restrain himself from going to Steve and turning this into a physical fight. “Who the fuck was I going to marry? When would that _ever_ have happened? What woman would ever be anything to me after what we had?” He’syelling, his throat is choked with emotion and he hates that they’re having this conversation. He’d wanted to go the rest of his life and never have to do this. 

“You think I didn’t feel the same way? That if you’d just said it was me and you to the end that I wouldn’t have separated myself from her? I went into the fucking ice because I couldn’t live without you!”

Bucky laughs. Steve blinks in surprise. “No.” He’s moving towards Steve now, slow and contained. If Steve thinks he can get away with rewriting history this way he’s out of his fucking mind.

Bucky closes the distance between them with every word, maintains eye contact so Steve will see just how much he knows and how much he hurts. “You went into the ice because there was a bomb heading to New York and you were going to be a hero. That wasn’t for me, sweetheart. I’ve heard the fucking audio.” He laughs, and he can hear the hysteria in his voice. Maybe he’s the one who needs to be locked up for his own safety. “I went through a phase where I listened to it over and over again. I know the places where you both breathed, for fuck’s sake. I can mark them. Whose voice trembled in grief when. The Stork Club. She was going to teach you. _Teach you_?” he says, and his voice breaks. That’s the ultimate betrayal and Steve knows it. “What was she gonna get to teach you, Stevie?” And he wishes he’d never broken free of his programming because this was just too much. 

“Not like that. Not sexual or own me. I was _yours_.”

“You dumped me and I conveniently died soon after. If that plane hadn’t gone down you’d have danced your heart out and fucked her good and proper. Maybe like I always fucked you. Do you think she would have liked being treated like a whore?”

“I will hit you,” Steve growls. “I thought we were going to fix it. In a day or two, I thought you’d apologize and I’d go down to my knees or you’d take me raw and that would be it and we’d be okay.” Tears slip down Steve’s cheeks. “It was a stupid fight. I never thought it was over. The bite would go away, you’d say you were sorry and we’d be okay. That was what was supposed to happen! But you fell. That fall was my fault. I thoughtyou were dead, Buck. And you and I both know I didn’t even try to get out of that plane. You _know_ that. Don’t do this to us when some part of you has to know.”

God, he’s good. Bucky wants to forgive him, he wants to pull him in and kiss him and take him to bed. He wants to mark him, marry him and own him like it was always supposed to be.

Wouldn’t that be nice, he thinks bitterly. “Sure, baby. Let’s say you’re right. But, that doesn’t even matter. Because you went back _again_ , didn’t you? You chose her over me twice. Fucked off to the past, figured out it wouldn’t work and then you skulked back here and hid. How is that the man I loved?”

“Fuck!” Steve yells and he punches the wall, his arm disappearing inside the thin plaster and then coming out all bloody knuckled. They both look at the blood. Is this some sort of time-out now where Bucky needs to get band-aids?

“I’m not the man you loved, Bucky. I know that and I hate myself for it. You think I don’t know that I fucked up beyond belief? I don’t deserve your love or forgiveness. I’m saying I _need_ it because I need _you_. Please, please let me do something, anything to prove it to you, to make amends,” Steve says, coming closer. “I’ll never deserve you but I will always want you.”

Bucky throws out a hand to stop him from coming any closer. “Steve, you chose her.”

“No, you _rejected_ me. I gave everything for you and you froze yourself in Wakanda instead of being with me. Everyone died, I’m crippled with what I did wrong and yet you _still_ didn’t want me. When I needed you more than ever. I shouldn’t have gone back after the stones.” He flexes his hand and blood drips. “That’s the real joke because I didn’t really think you’d let me go. Sometimes it seemed like she was the only thing that made you want me.”

“That’s not true.” Bucky is shocked at the very idea. “That’s the most bizarre thing I’ve ever heard.”

Steve’s knuckles are still dripping and Bucky grabs a towel and throws it to him. Steve takes a shaky breath and wraps his hand carelessly. “If you thought she wanted me you’d fuck me. Anywhere and anytime. And if there wasn’t time you’d take my mouth. Even my hand. She’d show up and I’d have you. The moment she left you’d be all over me, get me worked up and leave me that way until I was practically crying with it. You’d take me and it would be so good and I’d think that was it, _that_ was the time that would make it clear that it was always and only going to be you for me. But, then she’d leave and you’d start to grow distant again, look at me like you were thinking of letting me go.”

His side is aching now, his body tense. He wants painkillers and he needs to go to medical and see Fury and end this. “Steve, I don’t know what to do with this information. So, this is my fault? Cause you wanted to love her and I got pissy about it?”

“It isn’t anyone’s fault. Don’t twist this. It’s just where we are. Please let us try to fix this. _Please_.”

“With what goal?”

Steve blinks in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“You called me ‘Sir’. You asked me to use you last night. Was that because I dropped you down into subspace and you were horny? Because of the mission and the triggering or is that what you actually _want_ from me?” Bucky asks, startled to see that he’s somehow managed to put one of the kitchen chairs between them. He’s not sure when it happened but he’s relieved to have something there.

“It’s what I want. No, I think I need it and I think you do too.” Bucky’s gaze drops to Steve’s lips despite himself and when he looks back at Steve’s face something has changed. Steve eyes him almost hungrily, notes the chair and takes a step forward. “Remember how it would be? There was no one like us. I’ll let you do anything, Buck. Anything at all. Don’t apologize for last night. It was the best thing that’s happened to me since I came out of the ice and I swear to fucking god I will say yes to anything you ask of me. Whatever you need, I’ll give it to you. Anywhere. Anytime,” he says, making sure he stands up straight, puts his hands behind his back like he’s ready to be inspected.

He can see Steve’s nipples pebbled under Bucky’s t-shirt, see the bulge of him half hard already, just imagining what Bucky might do to him.“You need to go,” Bucky managed, and Steve tilted his head, eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out Bucky’s tone of voice.

Finally, he gave up and went to the door, leaving and Bucky was relieved as hell. Steve opened the door, paused, fingers drumming once on the frame as he turned back to Bucky. “I’m sorry you’re afraid, Buck. But I can’t let this go. Not again.”

 _Fuck._

 

***

 

Bucky took a shower and then went to medical where he was told to take it easy and dismissed without any further orders beyond waiting a week for another mission. Then he was off to face Fury.

“Sergeant Barnes. I just have one question for you. Although I’m thinking it may lead to others. Why the fuck was Steve Rogers on that mission? That man is hanging on by a thread and you thought he’d be an asset on a god damned train ride through Siberia? Where your extraction required jumping off of a god damned train?”

Bucky cleared his throat. “Well, no, I didn’t think it was a good idea. I thought it was a pretty fucking awful idea. But, I just—“

“Why on earth should I send you out on any moremissions as team leader when you’re clearly compromised when it comes to him?”

Bucky opened his mouth to object. But there was no objection. He sighed. “You’re right. I fucked up and he almost died. There is no excuse.”

Fury blinked. “Well, you were supposed to make that harder. Let’s say I remove you, who do I put in your place?”

“Natasha is smart and rock steady. If it hadn’t been for her absence she’d already have this job.”

Fury snorted. “That’s true enough. But she’s also fairly busy.”

“Alright, Sam then.”

“I’m not saying Sam isn’t qualified but from what I’m gathering here you don’t want to be in charge anymore? I’m expecting you to protestyour removal.”

“I don’t want anybody to get hurt because of me.”

“What do you think we do here? We aren’t playing in the god damned sandbox. This shit is life or death. Everyone gets hurt! Your experience, abilities and terrifying skills make you a good leader. I don’t want to replace you I want to fix this.”

“I appreciate that, but it doesn’t change the fact that—“

“Get the hell out of here you’re not helpful! Looking at me with those sad eyes. Jesus Christ. Let’s just hope the world doesn’t fall apart anytime soon. You’re gonna get yourself to therapy every god damned day, understand? And Rogers too. And if you don’t see an improvement, an honest improvement, he’s benched. Got it?”

“Look, I don’t want to be an asshole but come on. You aren’t gonna bench Captain America forever.”

“Get the hell out of my office!” Fury yelled at him. “Telling me what I’m gonna do or _not_ do. Last man who did that—“

“Yeah, I know. An eye,” Bucky said, saluting before he turned to leave. And then his day got better because Natasha was waiting for him in the hallway.

“James,” she said, in that deep voice that was meant to make men shiver in desire or fear. Sometimes both. He contemplated lying, telling her he had somewhere else to be or anything else to do but she’d just find him later. Might as well get it over with.

“You want coffee?”

She raised a single brow and headed down the hallway. “I’m impressed you’re willing to have this conversation so quickly.”

“I’m a rip the band-aid off kind of guy.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard you like that type of thing.”

“Well, fuck.” This was going to be worse than he’d thought.

“Funny story,” she said, as soon as they were in his kitchen. “I was fooling around in the files, as one does, and I came across a couple of, I don’t know, anecdotes and reports to Agent Carter of all people, who seemed to run interference on your kinky shenanigans back during the war.”

That was not what he’d expected her to say. “What now?”

“She knew. I guess Steve is loud and you talk a lot?” She shrugs. “Sounds about right, honestly. But that woman is long dead and yet you two geriatrics are not. What are your intentions regarding Steve?”

“You gonna come after me with a shotgun?”

“Just tell me if I need to have him stay with me or put him on suicide watch. This can’t go on and it’s only a matter of time before you two get back together so why can’t you save us all the shit-show and bang it out?”

Bucky half wonders if he’s going crazy living in this modern world where everyone thinks he and Steve should be together instead of their relationship being this thing they did in secret that was wrong and illegal.

And the problem he has with getting back together (Well, there’s lots but there is really only one insurmountable one) isn’t something he ever thought he’d be trying to explain to anyone. It’s mind-boggling that no one cares if they’re gay. Now any wrongness is all about the kink.

“If you can’t tell me, who can you tell? After what we’ve seen and done in the Red Room, do you think anything can surprise me?”

“No, I guess not.” He licks his lips, wishes rather desperately he had a cigarette. “The reports were correct. The relationship we had was…intense and kinky. Here’s the thing. I can’t say ‘oh it started out so sweet and somewhere it changed’ because it was _always_ like that. Our relationship was aggressive and demanding, punctuated with moments of sweetness. But the kindness was an after, like we had to break through to each other before we ever got to that. When he looked at Peggy…it was a pure love. Roses and champagne versus forcing him to his knees in a dirty alley and wishing the light was better so I could see him cry.”

Nat smirks. “Both relationships have their appeal.”

He barks out a relieved laugh because there is no judgment on her face whatsoever. She takes his hand gently in hers. “James, your relationship fit you and it fit him. He isn’t back in the forties with 2.5 kids and a woman who wants champagne. I can promise you he’d very happily go with you into a filthy alley and sob for more.”

She’s right. He knows it. But that’s not all of it. He’s not sure he can explain it. “Before the serum he almost died all the fucking time. I made so many deals with God and eventually it was always the same, ‘take me instead of him.’ I felt like he was mine. And he gave himself to me. So I gave myself to him. Steve got all my bad parts. I want to know he needs me for the good parts too. That there is something pure and good to be had between us too. Not just…violent.”

“I think he needed it more than he realized. And when he put it to the test he came back, didn’t he?” He shakes his head, feels sick inside. “I don’t want to be normal, that just sounds boring. But I don’t know if what we had is enough.” He wishes it made more sense. He wishes he wasn’t so damned afraid.

She’s quiet for a long time. “I think you’re hurt. I think you need each other and the love you have is both pure and co-dependent as hell. I think it’s worth fighting for and that given time you two would figure it out. Your relationship can change if it needs to.”

Bucky dashes a tear away on his sleeve. “I’m scared that I don’t know how to love him any other way,” he says, voice trembling. “And it’s all on me. He looks at me and he wants me to take control and make every decision and hurt the _hell_ out of him but my gut tells me that isn’t right. It isn’t enough. I’ve been in enough life or death situations to know that the people who ignore their instincts often wind up dead. It can’t be just that but I don’t think either of us knows how to make it…good.”

“I hate to break it to you but life isn’t a fairytale. I’m amazed you didn’t see the memo. You both are worth fighting for. Do that. Let him do that too. You’re defensive and scared and it’s understandable but you’re also breaking the one person in this world who loves you more than anything. You’ve got all these assumptions of how things are and will be but you don’t know. You don’t. You’re assuming the worst without trying to find the best. Let go of the control and the hurt and try to find something else. Let him try to find something else for the both of you too.”

She leans her head on his shoulder and sits with him for a while. He thinks it’s over. “You boys are complicated. And, I’m sorryto say it, but you’re compromised as hell.”

Bucky sighs drops his head into his hands. “Yeah. Can you believe Fury isn’t trying to permanently get rid of me?”

“I can. We need you.”She kisses him on the cheek and rubs a hand up and down his back. “I’m glad we’ve had this talk. Someday I’m going to come to you and have a conversation about my sex life and you can give me advice.”

“I look forward to it,” he says and covers his hot cheeks with his hands. The metal is nice and cool.

“Will you go have sex with Steve now?”

“No. But I’m thinking about it.”

She snorts.

“That wasn’t what I meant. It’s not wrong. But, it isn’t what I meant. I meant it’s something that’s probably on the horizon.”

“Would you say it’s coming closer? Like a wave? Is there buildup?”

“You’re a horrible friend,” he says and hugs her so hard she squeaks.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why do boys be so complicated? Did this work? there was a lot of rewriting. I think it works. grr. argh. And yes they're about to go to hawaii. Aloha!


	6. Chapter 6

Steve knows full well Bucky has been avoiding him. For his part, Steve’s been to therapy so much he feels like they should just put in a revolving door or perhaps get him one of those director chairs with his name on it.

The feeling that everything is coming to a breaking point is growing.

Steve runs into Sam in the communal kitchen. He takes one look at Steve and sits him down, his therapist persona out in full force.

“Lay it on me. Tell Uncle Sam all about it.”

“I’m never going to call you Uncle Sam. Frankly, it’s a little disturbing.” God, he hates this. It’s one of the things the therapist has been urging him to do, talk to people. Even if it’s uncomfortable and even though everyone knows his decision was a mistake, there’s so much emotion around it for him and his friends that Steve has to just welcome the conversation instead of avoiding it. And considering he went a long time unable to just say Bucky’s name because he was so grief-stricken, talking doesn’t come easy.“Bucky’s afraid of getting back together. Doesn’t want to get hurt again. He doesn’t believe me that it was a mistake and now he’s avoiding me.”

Sam winces. “It’s just going to take him a while. You need to be patient.”

“I don’t know if I can do that. I just…I thought the other day thatwe were at a turning point, so close to some semblance of normalcy and the idea that that’s not true is hard.”

“Steve. You hurt him like you did him dirtier than dirty. Up and leaving without a word, letting us all think you were coming right back and then not coming back but deceiving everyone instead. It makes one wonder if you’re just some callous sociopath or you know….” Sam shrugs.

“No, I don’t know. I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know but go ahead and say it,” Steve says, flatly. He deserves whatever Sam is about to say.

“Well, if you were just deeply fucked up. Like maybe you snapped or something,” Sam says, and it’s clear he isn’t trying to be mean about it. He’s pretty sure Sam wouldn’t put it that way to the VA vets. Before he can say anything Scott starts talking, wandering out of the pantry.

“Oh yeah, he _totally_ had a break with reality,” Scott said, a bag of chips in hand. “Sorry, I was going to wait until you guys left but then you really settled in. But, I was here when you all were dust and I can tell you,” Scott jerks a thumb in Steve’s direction. “ _Not_ normal. First of all, he looked like he’d aged a solid fifteen years. He was grim as hell. His clothes got a little weird— very Donald Jr. If you know what I mean—and he’d go into these weird trances where he’d stare at that stupid compass. He’s got a picture in there, you know, some chick. Like who is she? I thought it would James or a groupphoto but no.”

“Scott,” Sam interrupted, trying to pull him back on course.

“Anyways, he wouldn’t even talk about you, Bucky or Wanda. I bet the moment Nat died he went a little nuts, but then the thing with Tony— fullon collapse.”

“I’m right here,” Steve said, annoyed.

“It may not sound like it but I’ve got your back,” Scott says. “I’m doing Captain America a solid here. If there was ever a time to forgive someone for making a crazy decision it’s you. Well, it’s you as you were then.”

Sam held out a hand like he was waving Scott’s words away. “The woman in the compass is the reason he noped out and ditched all of us. His hero complex and depression, everyone turning to dust, that’s a good reason. But, I’m just saying it’s gonna be tough. A conversation or two, a good apology may not be enough. Rationally, James knows. But getting the heart to forgive is harder.”

“What about a lot of apology sex,” Steve said, half joking and half hoping it would make the conversation end.

Scott looked at him with wide eyes, brows rising sky high. “You’re gonna have to get freaky. Like puppets or multiples, I don’t even know. Does he like cooking? Cause the route to my heart is through my stomach,” Scott says, patting his stomach absently.

“I don’t know or want to know about the sex but Steve’s cooking will not win anyone back,”Sam said, a look of disgust on his face.

“I gotta go,” Steve said, retreating, “But thanks, I guess? Scott, you get a bead on those puppets you leave me out of it.”

Steve left the kitchen, turned the corner and ran into Bucky who was leaning against the wall, hand over his mouth, laughing. “How long have you been there?”

“Not long.”

“Then what’s so funny?”

“Cat meme. Nat sent it.”

“Oh.” Steve wasn’t sure he believed him but he didn’t want to know if Bucky had heard that whole unflattering conversation. “Were you, uh, looking for me?” he asked, and felt himself beginning to blush.

“I’ve got a mission. Personal because everyone with a brain has finally decided I’m just as fucked up as you are and I’m off team leader rotation for a while. Anyways, if you want to come along, I’d like the backup. Some Hydra asshole who’s come out of the woodwork and is trying to start some sort of food mafia. Now that there’s half the population to feed again, it’s all about food.”

“Just us?”

“Steve, this is an actual mission, not some vacation to work our shit out. If it’s too difficult to compartmentalize I get it.” Whatever he sees on Steve’s face has him leaning forward a little, reassuring. “We can talk when I get back. Because we should. If you want to.”

“I do want to. And I can compartmentalize.”

“Seriously, do say if you don’t want to. I could ask Scott to go with me. He just gets annoying on long trips.”

Steve tries not to laugh. “But he _will_ bring snacks.”

Bucky gives him a look. “That’s part of the problem. Why would I want Doritos while I’m waiting in the pissing rain for my target? And then his buddy Luis calls and there goes half an hour since he won’t shut up.”

“I’ll go with you. I’ll keep it professional. And I’ll make sure I don’t take any calls from Luis,” he says, repressing a smile.

“Right.” Bucky looks at his watch. “Thinking we leave at 0800 tomorrow.”

“What kind of mission is it?”

And that’s when Nat shows up, giving them both an examining look. “Oh good. You found him. Sorry I wasn’t here sooner. Luis called.”

“See!” Bucky said, throwing his hands up.

Nat frowned. “I like him. I tried to get him to come on the mission but he’s busy. Maybe next time.”

“What? No, no that’s a horrible idea,” Bucky says. “Wait. why does it sound like you’re talking about _my_ mission?”

“Because things have changed. Turns out it isn’t just your guy who’s going to be there. It’s like a convention of bad guys. Literally a new world order mafia. Every government and secret agency has someone at this thing they want picked up. So, you know. I’m coming too now. Plus, it’s inHawaii. I’ve never been to Hawaii. Look at how pale I am,” she says, tilting her face to the left and right.

“It’s not a vacation. I’ve got an extraction and potentially a body to dump.”

“Sounds like a vacation to me,” she says, winking at Steve. “You’re coming, right Steve?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he says, “I’ll need sunblock, though,” and Bucky rolls his eyes.

“I want to get waxed before we go,” Nat says, absently.

Steve hesitates. “What if I want to get waxed?”

Nat gives him an up and down look and a dirty smile. “I think I’m gonna need to be in the room where it happens. Just kidding. That’s a song from Hamilton. I’ll probably hear you screaming through the walls. That’s a good time. I’m in. So, uh, Scott. And then waxing.” She points at Bucky and says, smugly. “Plus, Scott will bring snacks.”

Bucky opens his mouth, closes it again. “Are you fucking with me? Is this some weird conspiracy? Am I bugged?” he pats down his jacket and jeans.

“What? No. Of course not. ” She said, patting Steve on the shoulder. She frowns at Steve. “God, you are tense. Okay, so see you tomorrow. I’ll take Steve and Scott and get them clothes.”

“Will Scott want to get waxed too?” Steve asks, serious.

“God you are so metrosexual I love it. I doubt it. He’s like Mr. Dad Bod but we’ll ask.”

Bucky shakes his head, clearly annoyed. “This is _not_ what was planned. I don’t like it when ops change like that, that’s when shit goes wrong.”

Nat shrugs. “Don’t be a man on the verge of a nervous breakdown and you can cross the street on your own. Plus, more bad guys requires more people. That’s math not personal.”

Steve lets Nat pull him down the hallway. Bucky gives him a dark look then an evil smile. “Scott’s that way. Ordering puppets,” he growls.

“I knew youwere listening!”

 

 

***

 

 

At 0745 the next morning, Bucky is dismayed (and yet resigned) to find a large group of people waiting in the Quinjet. Some genius has put on Hawaiian music, Wanda is wearing sunglasses and has a giant purple flower in her hair, Sam and Scott are wearing Tommy Bahama shirts and shorts with flip-flops and Scott is holding a box of donuts. Steve shows up a moment later and is the only person besides Bucky who’s wearing his uniform.

“Look at these mooks, not a serious one in the bunch.”

“Hey, that’s not true!” Scott says, the powdered sugar around his mouth undermining his point.

Bucky sits down in the pilot’s seat and gets them off the ground. He does leave the music on though and before the hour is over he’s taken a cup of coffee from Nat and a donut from Scott. Sam is telling a story about his one surfing experience and Steve sits down in the co-pilot seat with his coffee and feels better than he has in a long time. This is where he belongs. These are the people he belongs with. How did he fuck things up so much?

“I’ve gotta ask, you know,” Bucky says, eyes very blue even if he does look tired. “Did you get waxed?”

Steve takes a sip of coffee. “I did,” he says, after a moment.

“Did it hurt?”

“Like you would not believe. There’s all this anticipation and fear, you’re totally naked and some stranger slathers wax on you. I mean, I can take pain. Hell, I love pain.” Bucky snorts and lifts his coffee cup in a gesture of agreement.

“So far it sounds kind of hot.”

Steve gives him a wide-eyed look. “Then I’m telling it wrong. This wasn’t normal pain. Punched in the stomach, socked in the jaw, I’m okay with that. Hot wax in strange places…I wasn’t prepared,” he says, voice tapering off as he remembers the trauma. “Honestly, I don’t know if one can ever prepare for something like that.”

Bucky chuckles. “Okay, well now I have to know where.”

Steve gives Bucky a look from under his lashes, one he hopes is flirtatious rather than cheesy. “Sorry, Sarge. That’s information I’m not willing to say aloud….But I would be very happy to show you.”

Bucky coughs, manages to swallow down his bite of donut and gives Steve a hasty once over. “Pretty sure my heart can’t take it,” he says, with a grim smile and then stands up. “You watch the controls for a bit?”

“Uh, sure.” So, that was a complete and utter failure, Steve thinks. And of course, he agonizes over Bucky’s final words. He’d thought Bucky meant that it was too sexy and he’d have a heart attack but that wasn’t it. He was literal. He didn’t want to see Steve’s smooth, naked skin because he didn’t want the heartbreak. 

“Scott, did you bring more donuts?” Steve asks, willing to treat his problem with sugar.

By the time they’re entering Hawaiian airspace and preparing to land everyone is going crazy with excitement and talking about how blue the water is, how lovely it looks with the sun reflecting off of it and Bucky is practically ready to kill them all for being so distracted.“Okay people, this is a big operation and there won’t be a lot of time to work on your tans.”

“I’ll find a way,” Wanda mutters, poking an elbow at Sam.

Bucky glares at her. “These men are the foundations of a new worldwide mafia that is attempting to control half the world’s supply of wheat, corn and soya.”

“Food. Man. Remember when Doritos were three bucks? Now they’re like ten. The future is expensive,” Scott says.

He hands out files and they all start flipping through them. “Hold on a minute. This looks dodgy as hell,” Sam says.

“That’s why you don’t just agree to a free trip without reading the fine print,” Bucky says, through gritted teeth. “You know, the government once paid for me to go to Italy and we all know how that turned out.”

Scott laughs then cuts himself off. “Sorry. It was kind of funny. Ultimately tragic, but funny too.” 

Bucky sighs. “Nat?”

She’s distracted by looking at Wanda and sniffing her shoulder. “It smells like coconuts and chemicals and I love it,” She says, sounding enchanted.

Wanda blushes and gives Nat a look Bucky can’t quite read. But it’s interesting. He’s gonna ask Buck about it later. “Natasha is going to come up here and explain the details of the mission.”

“Why can’t I do it from here?” she asks, staying seated.

“Oh, I don’t care,” Bucky says and goes back to sit in the pilot’s seat, sounding mildly exhausted. Nat hops up, sticks her tongue out at Bucky. “You’re a fucking child,”he says, his Brooklyn accent the thickest it’s been in years. Nat says something in Russian, Bucky blushes, glances at Steve and then away.

“Sometimes I really wish I spoke Russian,”Steve murmured to Sam.

“Bet you a hundred bucks she told him he needed to get laid.”

“I’d love to take that bet and have you win.”

“You two, tweedle dee and tweedle dumb, shut up,” Bucky says.

“Most of what’s in your briefings is correct but, uh, I talked to Fury after you left James and we had a few changes to make in the end. New mission details will be waiting for us when we get there.”

Bucky presses two fingers against his closed eyes like he has a headache. “I knew this was going to happen. You went back to the original plan, didn’t you?” he sounds utterly betrayed.

“Sorry,” she says, “it’s just so much simpler. James will be pretending to be the organizer, Steve you willpretend to be Bucky’s boy toy who may get pimped out depending upon the circumstances.”

“Huh,” Steve says. “Did not expect that. Okay.”

“ _That’s_ your response?” Bucky demands, annoyed.

Steve shrugs. “I don’t know what else to say. It all sounds a little ridiculous.”

“Can we actually pimp out Captain America?” Scott asks, shocked. “What kind of world are we living in.”

“It wouldn’t really happen!” Bucky says.

“Well, we can’t rule it out completely,” Nat says, and winks at Steve. He looks around at the people beside him, studying them and how they are not looking at him or Bucky and has the strange certainty that this entire group of people is trying to get them back together. Is that why Bucky is so annoyed about the whole thing?

“Well, I don’t like it and if there is some way to change it, you are to let me know immediately,” Bucky says, giving Steve a hot look that he could just about describe as possessive. Which, in this history of everything, Bucky possessive has always worked out well for him.

“We’ll do what we need to do,” Steve says, in his most serious Captain America voice.

“Uh no, actually I don’t need to let you know immediately,” Nat says, wincing.

“What?” Bucky hisses.

“Due to the intimate nature of this mission and the emotions involved between you two, Fury and I decided it would be an utter shit-show to have you solely in charge. I’m going to be approving all decisionsand running point.” Bucky seems speechless. Nat shrugs. “Hey. It wasn’t my idea. You guys have issues.”

Bucky blows out a breath, apparently conceding the point. “Yeah, yeah, we got issues. Fine,” he says, “Now I’ll get to work on my tan.” He actually seems relieved.

“There’s that positive attitude. They also have room service. You know, if you’re not wanting to leave your room.”

“Oh ho ho,” Scott says, in a ridiculously over the top lecherous way. “Horizontal man-bo.”

“You are so unprofessional,” Bucky says.

Nat throws up her hands. “You keep saying that. Where did this even come from? When have we _ever_ been professional?”

Bucky actually blinks. “Oh. Maybe I’m comparing it to Hydra. Don’t we want to be taken seriously?”

“By who?” Nat asks, genuinely curious. Bucky looks confused. He shrugs, suddenly contemplative.

“Are you saying we’re worse than Hydra?” Wanda asks.

“Just not as well organized,” Steve says, helpfully.

“And I’m okay with that,” Nat says. “The Red Room was organized. Not something we really want to aspire to if you ask me. We get the job done, we go to the beach, all is well.”

“We never went to the beach with the Red Room,” Bucky says. “At least, not that I remember.”

Everybody groans.

“Is it really a good idea to have James filling in for the event manager?” Steve asks, proud of himself for saying James instead of Bucky like a reasonable adult.

“Meaning?”Bucky asks.

“Well, don’t they want you to smile?”

Nat snorts. “Yeah. We call it ‘putting on the Bucky’. Everyone loves him. Him schmoozing and charming people is the least of our worries.”

“Oh.” Steve says, and feels oddly hollow in his chest. Putting on the Bucky. A weird false persona that he could mimic. It implied that Bucky really was gone. And he wondered how he’d feel when he saw it. How similar it would be to the past. Steve was pretty sure that was going to hurt like a son of a bitch.

They initially touched down in Honolulu, using the US military base there to disembark before splitting up and using commercial transport to go to the big island. Steve had gone with Bucky, Nat, and Wanda while Sam and Scott had wandered away since they weren’t supposed to know everybody else. They’d be doing most of the breaking and entering.

Nat and Wanda came out wearing sundresses and straw hats that even Steve could tell were expensive. Nat gave him a look over the top of her oversized Gucci sunglasses. “What?” she asked, and popped a bubble at him.

“Where’s the gun?” he asked, looking her up and down.

“Multiple and don’t you worry about it,” she said, with a smirk. Then she adjusted her bracelet, he saw it stretch and realized it was one of her trademark garrotes. “Cute, huh? James got it for me for my birthday. You weren’t here.”

“Fantastic.”

Wanda looked excited, practically dancing in place as they waited for Bucky, she was so eager to get going. Another few minutes went by and Steve was getting impatient. They’d put him in linen trousers and sandals, a ridiculously tight shirt and he felt like some sort of a douchey supermodel. He could feel Nat watching him. “Problem?” he asked, on edge.

“Nope. Just admiring the view.”

And that was when Bucky appeared. In a stupidly expensive suit. “Oh,” Steve said and felt Wanda put a hand under his jaw as she pressed his mouth closed. He blushed furiously but didn’t look away. “A haircut?”he said, and it was like looking into the past. This was Bucky before he’d fallen from the train. His hair had that length on top and curl, he was freshly shaved, the smile on his face, the confidence in his swagger, but it was topped off with a blue suit, which, actually was the same color as his jacket had been when they’d been with the Commandos.

“Sorry for the holdup there,” he said, and Steve nodded. Putting on the Bucky. Here it was. They were taken to the airport and got onto a commercial flight to the big island, holding their new identification and wallets. Wanda and Natasha sat together and Steve sat with Bucky who didn’t just look good but smelled good and was like some sort of fifty shades of wet dream.

“You realize you’re staring,” Bucky said, once they were in the air.

“I’m sure I am.” Steve licked his lips. “Remember that flight from London to Paris? They put us on that private plane because we had to do some interviews for promoting the war effort? Just the Commandos and too much booze. They all fell asleep and we…well, I ruined my trousers.”

“Ah, I do,” Bucky says, and the blush is stealing up his cheeks. “We broke the door. Carter called me into her office and complained about it.”

“She did?”

“Yes, apparently she had heard many tales of our various… exploits during the war. Guess she intercepted all the missives, quashed gossip. She said we needed to drink less and behave responsibly. I bet she knew.” Steve is stunned. “Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? Did she think she’d break us up before you two got together for real or was she gonna look the other way? Or most likely you’d have broken it off with me out of respect to her. She had an uncommonly expansive view of sowing one’s wild oats, apparently.” Bucky goes back to looking out the window. Once again Steve made an overture and once again Bucky threw Peggy back in his face.

“She’s always going to be there between us, isn’t she? Hell, I’m being blamed for things I didn’t even contemplate doing.” He turns to look at Bucky, wills him to really get it. Bucky won’t look at him so he puts his hand over his until Bucky turns.“I have no idea how I would have broken things off with you. And I don’t know how we even play that guessing game out. Does that mean I’d have lived my life without you? And, we wouldn’t have lived together again after the war? Buck,” he whispers and has to swallow before he can continue on, “Pretend we survived the war and we went back to Brooklyn. We would have. And maybe it would be just for a little while, a month or two while things settled down and I was supposed to go to her? Really? I just don’t see how I’d have gotten you back home, safe and sound, able to finally be together again and then…” he has to swallow, it’s such a horrible thought, “And then leave you. I don’t think you would have let me go and I don’t think I could have gotten out of the bed and left you. I just don’t. I’ll take a polygraph test if you want, I just—”

“Stevie,” Bucky says, and Steve looks at him, at the grief and pain on his face, can see that the love is still there even if it’s battered.

“I was…I was yours, Buck. You really would have given me up?” he asks, voice small, almost shaking. He hasn’t heard that voice come out of himself since he got the serum. It was the voice he had when his ma was bringing the priest by.

“I guess I already did, didn’t I? Let you go to her,” he says, and Bucky touches Steve’s cheek gently with his flesh hand, and whatever he’s thinking Steve can’t guess at it, isn’t sure if it’s good or bad, a beginning or the end.

And then Wanda was standing next to their seat demanding they try a drink called POG and Steve thinks he can feel the weight of their shared misery resting between them. 

A van was waiting for them when they landed and to keep the surrealness going, their driver was accompanied by Sharon wearing a white dress and a nametag indicating she worked for the resort. “Aloha,” she said and put flower lei’s on all of them. “Mr. Barnes, we’ve been expecting you. Please, if you need anything during your stay, do let us know,” she said, and then they all piled into a white van. The driver was a local who didn’t have anything to do with their mission and he spent the whole ride telling Nat and Wanda about the island.

The island looked like the moon. All black lava rock with some weeds and the occasional tree. The other side of the island was perpetually rainy and junglelike but here it was like a freeway straight to the apocalypse. Until one looked towards the ocean, a gigantic expanse of blue and palm trees and massive resorts lining the coast.

And then they turned down the drive towards their own hotel and were driven to a special entrance. Sharon waited while they got out, the driver handed their bags over to a bellman and Bucky clapped the guy on the back and gave him a stupidly large tip. 

Sharon swiped her key card and they all went into a beautiful private lobby that was open on all sides, the ocean visible and several hundred feet away. “Well, this isn’t Brooklyn,” Steve muttered.Sharon frowned at him and went through a spiel about their accommodations.

“How long have you been with the hotel?” Steve asked, wondering if anyone else was surprised she was here.

She smiled at him with an abundance of false sincerity. “I was in London for a while and then Munich. I’ve only been here for a few weeks but I can assure you we have it all sorted out for the conference and its attendees,” She gestured at Bucky, doing her best to ignore Steve. He was kind of okay with that. After helping him out she’d paid a serious political price and had only clung on to her job because of her relationship with Peggy. That had to rankle. 

“I’m sure it’s perfect, doll.”

Steve hears Wanda whispering to Nat. “I love that man. Truly, in the post ‘Me Too’ era, how many men can still call a woman sweetheart or doll and have it be unthreatening and charming?”

Nat snorted. “Is that what you look for in a man? Unthreatening?”

“My only real boyfriend was a robot,” Wanda said, with a shrug.

“Touche.”

Sharon led them down a long hallway and into the resort itself. A child was screaming twenty feet away, a small yellowsand-pail clutched in her hand and a pink shovel in the other. Her mother swooped her up and carried her away, telling the little girl they all needed a nap. Steve smiled and turned back, found Bucky looking at him grimly.

They followed Sharon to a tower of rooms, Nat and Wanda being given their keys and sent on their way and Steve and Bucky taken to a different building. No one spoke. She opened the door to a giant suite with a living room and sliding doors that went straight out to the beach and paused. “This is your suite. It has two bedrooms, has been swept for bugs and the CIA has come in and swapped out your phone line, making it secure for all calls just in case something goes really wrong. Here is the map showing you where the private helicopter landing pad is. If you need to transport a body, live or otherwise, you call housekeeping and one of our agents will come up to take care of it.”

“Thanks, Sharon,” Bucky said, taking off his jacket and throwing it on the couch.

“The first event you’re required to be at is the opening cocktail hour. It starts at 5. I’ll be by your side representing the CIA. Here is your comms unit so we can communicate. I gave one to Nat too. If you see any agents you recognize, ignore them. Tonight we get retinal scans, fingerprints and voice samples while Sam and Scott go through the rooms. No apprehensions are to be made and hopefully no one dies or gets their cover blown.”

Bucky nods in agreement. “It’s a good dream.”

This is essentially the same thing they’d talked about on the plane but it was good to know everyone was on the same page.

Then there was a knock on the door as the bellman arrived with their bags. Sharon quickly went out the slider and then they let the man in, Bucky asking him questionswith all the enthusiasm of a genuine tourist. His answer was fairly standard until Bucky slipped him fifty dollars.

The man’s eyes widened in gratitude. “Well, sir, you’ve gotta take your partner snorkeling at the least. They can get you a boat, catch some fish, cook it up for you and you can watch the sunset. Very romantic. Much better than the luau.”

Bucky came over to Steve, brushed a hand down his arm, “What do you think, sweetheart? Does that sound fun?”

Steve couldn’t stop himself from flinching a little, he was so caught off guard by the casual touch. “That would be fun,” he said and the bellman left. As soon as the door closed Bucky turned to him.

“Are you going to be okay with this?”

“What? No. I can do this. It just surprised me. It’s weird you being…him or whatever it is. Just, takes me back.” Steve picks up his suitcase and carries it to a bedroom notreally wanting to talk about it.

“You saying you miss the old me?”Bucky opened up a bag, pulled out a small device, switched it on and set it down in the room. “Blocks the bugs.”

“Right. I miss…I miss all of you. Any version of you.”

“Ah. That’s sweet. I’d kind of expected a sarcastic response.”

“Sorry. I’ll do better tonight.”

Bucky didn’t leave, just stood in Steve’s doorway, arms crossed as he gave Steve a long look. “You cleaned up nice,” he said.

Steve ran a hand self consciously down his stomach. “Thanks. I think I’m going to get a serious sun burn while I’m here. Not you, though. You always did tan easy.”

Bucky shrugs, a soft smile on his face. “Guess so.”

“Are you going to wear a suit the whole time?” he asked.

“Nah. The flight manifest said we were coming from New York so this seemed appropriate. I’ll wear it tonight to the dinner, make sure I look suitably important and out of place then go more casual tomorrow.”

“Ah. You’ve got it all planned out, huh?” Steve asked, with a sad smile.

“Yeah. Guess so,” he said, softly. Bucky went to the slider, opened the door and stepped out. The sound of the waves crashing against the rocks was loud.

“Didyou know Sharon would be here?”

“No. I think we were all surprised. I don’t like this mission. Things are changing too fast. There’s stuff going on we don’t know about.”

“What do you mean?” Steve asked. He scanned the area, appreciating how easy it was to get from their room to the main pathway. A few steps and one could get lost in the hotel grounds.

Bucky frowned. “I don’t know yet. But we’ve got Fury sending us in, Nat working for him and I’ll guarantee you he’s got something else going on. Probably selling information to someone and then there’s the CIA. The wiretaps weren’t included in my mission brief.”

He pulled out his phone and called Nat. “Didyou know the CIA is going to pick up the bodies? Sharon said her people are on it. Andthey’ve got the place bugged.”

With his super hearing he could hear Nat swear. “I’ll call Fury,” she said, and hung up. Bucky’s phone vibrated at getting a text message.

Bucky looked at Steve. “Look at these hot dogs,” he said, holding up a picture. It was a selfie of Scott wearing a maintenance uniform with a thick black mustache and Sam holding a guitar with a particularly hideous Hawaiian shirt on. They were grinning into the camera like fools.

“I’ll give you five bucks if you send that to Fury,” Steve said.

Bucky gave him a grin. The first real one he’d had in a long fucking time. “Nah. This is blackmail material right here. Does Sam know how to play the guitar?”

***

Three hours later and Nat had shown up and given them the details on where things stood. The plan was moving ahead, Bucky would meet the people he was supposed to at the opening event while Sam and Scott broke into hotel rooms.

Nat and Wanda would be at the cocktail hour and would get voice samples, retinal scans (they weren’t overjoyed about the special glasses they had to wear) and fingerprints. Steve had been relegated to backup and eye candy since at least one of their targets liked men. 

Steve had left Nat and Bucky to talk and when he came back out again he was surprised to find that she wasn’t gone but that they were out on the balcony. Nat reached up and touched Bucky’s face, soft and careful. Bucky leaned into it, closed his eyes and nodded. He pressed his forehead to hers and she hugged him tightly in her arms, going up on tip toes. He heard her say something in Russian and then she pulled back.

She turned and saw Steve staring at them and it was clear from the way she pulled back that this wasn’t some fake show of affection but real.

Was this what it looked like? Nat and Bucky? She turned and left, not even bothering to come back into the room, just heading down the path outside their room.

Bucky opened the door but Steve turned and went back into his room, ignoring Bucky calling his name as he closed the door and went straight to his bathroom, locking the door and turning on the shower.

Almost instantly the door opened, a cracking sound indicating Bucky had broken the lock. “We’ve got enough problems without this. Just listen. I knew Nat, alright? Before this. In the Red Room. Over the years we were put on missions together every now and again.

“She never said,” Steve says, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms.

Bucky opens the shower door, turns off the water. “No, she didn’t. Probably because it’s no one’s business but also because we’ve both had the memories wiped several times. We’re friends. That’s it. Whatever else there was, it was a long time ago.”

Which strikes Steve as inappropriately funny. “But is it decades?”

Bucky leaves him there to go and get ready and Steve thinks about Bucky and Na and then comes to a decision. He’s on a tropical island pretending to be Bucky’s boyfriend. He should act like it.

He’s not leaving this island until they’re back together.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, fair warning. lots of sex, some daddy kink...steve is a masochist. Uh, enjoy?

Steve comes out of his bedroom with plenty of time to spare, half expecting Bucky to be cleaning guns or running through plans with someone but the room is quiet. He almost thinks Bucky left but then sees him sitting outside, a half-full tumbler full of ice and whiskey beside him. Steve opens the door and Bucky gives him a quick up and down look.

“Nice.”

“Thanks.” He’s in another obscenely tight shirt and very fine loose charcoal linen trousers with some ridiculous woven sandals. “But,you know it’s ridiculous.”

“No, I don’t.” Bucky reaches into a pocket and pulls out a cigarette, lights it and takes a deep drag. “You fishing for compliments, want to giveus a twirl?”

“Are you smoking again?”

Bucky shrugs. “Not really. Thought it might go with my smarmy undercover persona. Tastes awful. Which is actually kind of funny considering how much I smoked during the war.” Bucky drags in another lungful of smoke.

“Oh yeah? Let’s see,” Steve says, and he leans down, rests his hands on the arms of the chair like he’s caging him in and presses his lips against Bucky’s, urging Bucky to open his mouth. Bucky exhales against Steve’s lips and Steve drags the smoke into his mouth and his lungs, keeps his lips close to Bucky’s but open, feels Bucky’s tongue swipe against Steve’s bottom lip.

“Well? Seventy years later is it better than you remember?” Bucky asks, as Steve draws back, exhaling the smoke.

Steve blinks, pupils blown wide. He reaches down and adjusts himself. “Wow. Didn’t think that would get me hard. God, it totally takes me back. You always tasted like cigarettes.”

“Well, now I feel bad.”

Steve makes a sound. “Don’t. I fucking loved it. Don’t know why.”He shakes his head like he’s shrugging off a punch. “Wow.”

Bucky is watching Steve’s hand as he cups himself, follows it up Steve’s body, lingering on his pecs and then his face. “You already said wow,” and Steve is pretty sure he’s trying not to smirk.

He’d always been so amused by how much Steve wanted him. After one long night in the Alps where they were pretty sure they weren’t going to live to see the morning, Bucky had turned to Steve and thanked him for being so good to him, said Steve loving him had made him feel like a god. They hadn’t died and Bucky had tried to play it off as a joke but Steve definitely noticed that certain things Steve would do made Bucky preen around like a peacock for the next week.

“It’s worth two wows,” he says, and drops his hand to his side, making a fist and releasing it.

Bucky takes another long drag of his cigarette and then crushes it out in the ashtray and stands up, moves a little closer to Steve, purposeful and with heat in his eyes. His brow raises, an offer.

“Yes,” Steve says, simple and clear and Bucky closes the distance between them, kissing Steve’s mouth, tongue sliding in as he exhales the smoke. Steve wraps his arms around Bucky’s neck and sucks it in, makes a sound of need as Bucky’s hand slides around his lower back, pulling him closer. “You’re hard,” Steve says, like it’s a revelation.

Bucky chuckles. “Happily,that’s never been one of my problems. Murderous and forgetful, yes, unable to be aroused by Steve Rogers? Not possible.”

Steve kisses him again, feels the tension in Bucky and how much he wants Steve. “You didn’t fuck my mouth,” Steve murmurs against his lips. “The other night when you put me on the floor and I had you on my tongue, I was so disappointed.”

“Fuck. You really are trying to give me a heart attack, aren’t you?”

“You have your mission and I have mine,” Steve says.

“Hmm.” Was Bucky’s non-committal response.

Steve touches Bucky’s tie gently. The familiar feel of their cocks trapped between their bodies, next to each other is so achingly familiar. “You, um, didn’t tell me if you think this shirt is too tight?” Steve asks, and Bucky’s gaze goes almost helplessly down to Steve’s chest.

“This really is a full frontal assault.” Bucky says, rolling his eyes. His voice is strained. “I taste good,you feel good, everything is a temptation. You make me feel like I’ve been lost in the desert and you’re offering me a glass of cold lemonade.”

Bucky drops his hand, steps back. He clears his throat. “Real mission. Right. So, does this mean you don’t think the route to my heart is through my stomach?”

Steve glares at him. “I _knew_ you heard that conversation.”

“Anyway. That shirt? Too tight? There is no such thing. Come on, we’re going to be late.” Bucky sighs, looks longingly at Steve’s chest one more time and breaks the moment.

***

The conference area overlooks a giant lagoon, a smattering of palm trees and tiki torches surrounding them. Steve takes Bucky’s hand as they get close, giving him a real smile and Bucky blinks at him. “Holding your hand in public, you giving me a look like that, we really are in the future, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, we are,” he says, feeling unbelievably grateful for it. The horrible tension and grief that had been between them is currently gone and Steve wants to hold on to this soft, sweet Bucky as long as he possibly can.

Bucky stops walking, seems captivated by whatever he sees on Steve’s face. “You look happy, Stevie. Don’t think I’d quite realized how much I missed seeing it.” He steps closer, kisses Steve on the forehead and runs a hand up and down Steve’s back affectionately. “Oh, sweetheart, we’re going to be alright. I promise.”

“For crying out loud we’re on a damned mission,” Sam says, in their earpieces. “Although, I’m glad it’s getting worked out. Like, I’m not trying to be an asshole.”

“Oh my god, what am I missing down there?” Scott says. “Not that anyone cares, but this guy in 328 is a total creep by the way. There is cocaine _everywhere_.”

“That’s rule one of running a drug cartel. Don’t sample the product,” Bucky says, rolling his eyes and then moving them forward again. Steve can hear the party and he squeezes Bucky’s hand one last time before letting go.

Steve finds himself talking to a large, sweating man in a flower print shirt that’s straining at the buttons. He’s waving a shrimp around dangerously and leering at Steve’s chest.

He knows it’s bad when Nat says, “Maybe that shirt is a little too tight.” She’s on the other side of the room fiddling with her glasses.

“I’m going to have to hard disagree,” Bucky says.

“Maybe just disagree,” Wanda says, and Steve cuts her a look. She’s standing by the bar, eyes wide and innocent. “I just don’t know if hard is really the word you needed there.”

“Oh, I get it!” Scott says, and Wanda chokes on her drink laughing at his goofiness.

“This is so deeply unprofessional I can’t believe it,” Sharon hisses and Steve sees her sweeping into the room furious and barely hiding it. She makes eye contact with all of them like they’re rowdy children.

“Sorry, ma’am,” Bucky says, seriously. “I agree, we should all be _professional._ ”

Sharon finally spots Steve. She blinks. “That shirt _is_ too tight. Did the mission get changed again? Are we pimping out Captain America?”

“Someone, _please_ send me a picture!” Scott groans loudly and everyone winces at the volume. “Hey, a crack pipe!”

“Scott, you’re too fucking loud on the earpiece. Can it or we’re shutting you off,” Bucky says.

“Sorry,” he whispers. “Seriously, though. Can I get that picture? I’ll give you a baggie of cocaine…..”

“While you’ve been yacking it up about drugs and resort-wear, I’ve completed my tasks. Two rooms cleared,” Sam says, sounding smug.

“I’m almost done too,” Scott says.

“Finished in five. This guy in the lobster print shirt heading my way is the last on my list,” Wanda says.

“Steve, I’m going to need you to intercept Kushenko. He isn’t giving me the time of day but he is definitely checking out your ass. Just don’t give him a heart attack when he catches sight of America’s rack,” Nat murmurs.

“You should trademark that,” Scott says.

“Is that how it works?” Nat asks, and Steve ignores them all, pulls out his own pair of retinal scanning glasses, turns on the mic to get the voice samples and heads to the bar. He can feel Bucky watching him.

“Can I get you a drink?” Kushenko asks, as soon as Steve is beside him and Steve gives him a smile. He gives Steve a look, frowns and then says, “Anyone ever tell you you look like Captain America?”

“A few,” he says, smiling. “Gets me a lot of modeling gigs,” he says, with a shrug. The man looks him over lasciviously. “I just bet it does. Your James’ boy, right?”

“Yes, I’m Mark,” Steve manages but it’s like he’s been punched in the stomach. There is so much wrong and missing in that sentence he can’t hardly stand it.

“Ah, trouble in paradise, huh?”

Steve tries to smile. “I guess so.”

“Well, he’s a fool if he doesn’t see what he’s missing. Let me show you a good time while we’re here.”

Steve blinks. This was going better than he’d thought it would. Almost too well.

“I hate to tell you kid but your boyfriend has already given me the go ahead.This event is important to him. Anything I need, he said,” Kushenko openly leers at him. “He’s an idiot to be willing to share a man that looks like you.” He says a few more tactless things all the while ogling Steve and Steve can’t hardly wait to beat the crap out of him and get him shipped offto some dank prison where he belongs. Nat interrupts,leading Kushenko away and Bucky is suddenly beside him, tugging him towards the back wall.

“Is your comm unit down?” Bucky asks, looking at him.

“Sam?” he asks, as a test and gets no response.

Bucky frowns. “No one can hear you and I’ve been trying to get your attention for the last few minutes so it’s gotta be out. Sam is having trouble with Kushenko’s room, too many goonsandhissuit got salt water on it — don’t ask— andiscurrently out of commission.”

“You want me to go to his room and get a copy of his hard drive?”

“No,I really, really don’t,” Bucky says, pissed at the idea. “But we need it done.”

“I can take care of myself,” Steve says, smiling fondly at Bucky’s worry.

“Get the hard drive and then get out,” Bucky holds out another comms unit and Steve takes it, heads to the bathroom to put it in out of sight. He takes out the old one, gets the new one situated, does a toilet flush for sake of the disguise and goes back towards the party.

“Steve, can you hear me now?” Bucky asks.

He makes a sound of agreement and runs straight into Kushenko who is loitering in the hallway.

“There you are.” He holds out another drink for Steve. “We were interrupted,” he says, and Steve tries to look enthusiastic. He’s pretty sure it’s not all that successful. They go back into the party and Bucky comes up to them, talks up what an important man Kushenko is and does an impressively good job of kissing ass. 

Finally, Kushenko looks at Steve. “Look at this beautiful thing. He looks expensive. How about diamonds? Do you like diamonds? Or cars?”

Bucky laughs but it sounds strained. “We’ve been on and off for a long time now. Believe me, he’s harder work than he looks.”

It’s too close to the truth and he looks away from Bucky, happens to make eye contact with Kushenko. “You’ve hurt his feelings. Come along, Mark. You need a new drink,” and he leads Steve away.

“Don’t let his sad looks fool you. He’s simply trying to get a raise,” Bucky says, playing up the trouble between them as Kushenko leads him away.

Kushenko takes him to the bar. “So, you need a raise?”

Steve nods. “My mother. She’s ill. The bills are just…it’s boring. Sorry,” he says, trying to wave the conversation away. He sees the light in Kushenko’s eyes when Steve brings up the bills, thinking he’s found a way in to Steve’s bed.

Money.

Nat is in a blue cocktail dress, laughing up at an old man a few barstools down. One of the ones they are to eliminate once they get what they need. Sex trafficking, which makes it an easy decision to kill him as far as Steve is concerned. And Nat keeps playing idly with her garrote in a way that makes Steve think she’s imagining various ways of killing and disposing of the man’s body.

Kushenko plies him with drinks and asks him questions. After two hours he’s promised to get Steve into an art school in Paris, set him up and pay his bills, all for his favors. They stand up to go watch the sunset and Steve feels wobbly. The look in Kushenko’s eyes makes him think he’s been roofied.

What an asshole. His super soldier metabolism will have him feeling fine in a few minutes but it definitely seems to be getting a bit worse instead of better he realizes once he starts following Kushenko.

He looks around for Bucky, sees him across the room, catches his gaze just as Kushenko leads him away. Once they’re out the door, Steve stumbles surprised he’s so weak. And then somehow he’s elsewhere, he’s not even sure how it’s happened, but he’s in a room and everything is spinning. He’s led to a bed and he sits down because it’s that or fall down.

“What did you give me?” Steve asks, his tongue feeling large in his mouth.

“If you were anyone else you’d be dead. You’ve had enough to kill twenty men, Captain.” He feels fingers at his neck and can’t even raise his arm to bat it away. “Your heartbeat is very slow indeed. We will be leaving here in an hour. My men are already on their way. ” Kushenko has something in his hand.

A cattle prod. Steve’s had the misfortune of dealing with that before.

Steve gathers his strength to hit him but he’s beyond slow and the pain in his side steals his breath as Kushenko presses the prod hard against him. Steve struggles to roll over to try and get away and the man laughs. Kushenko adjusts the setting, so high it makes a whining sound before it starts up. One jab and Steve loses consciousness.

When he comes to, Bucky is there, beating the shit out of Kushenko, punching him and Nat is there too, grabbing Bucky’s arm, trying to stop him from killing the jerk. Sharon is on her phone giving orders.

Steve gags, tries to push up and get to the bathroom but he barely gets an arm under himself before he’s throwing up. On the bed. It’s horrible. Bucky is suddenly there, dragging him up and practically carrying him to the bathroom. Steve vomits again and again, then hears Nat talking. “…sleep it off. He’s throwing up so that’s good.”

“Okay, the doctor says we can neutralize the drug but she’s right. With his metabolism and what he’s gotten rid of he’ll be okay in a few hours,” Sharon says, “And it would take us that long to get what we need from a hospital anyway.”

“Does he fucking look all right?” Bucky shouts, sounding panicked. Steve vomits again, so weak that he’s grateful Bucky is holding him up.

He loses time somehow and when he’s next aware of his surroundings everyone is gone except for Bucky and Nat. They’re speaking in Russian. She’s sitting on the stripped bed, shoes off while Bucky is next to him in the bathroom. Steve is propped up against his chest, trapped between him and the toilet in case he needs to puke apparently.

“Hey, he’s coming around again,” Nat says.

Steve heaves, retching painfully and shivering. “Jesus Christ, you really are my damsel in distress, aren’t you?” Bucky asks, rubbing a hand up and down Steve’s arm. He sounds worried.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there shivering, trying to burrow into the warmth of Bucky’s body. There’s a knock on the door and Nat gets up to open it. Wanda holds clothes out and Nat comes back. “Wanda wants me to go back with her. I probably should. Will you be okay here?”

“Yeah. We’re okay. Gonna get him cleaned up and back to the room.”

“Feel better Steve,” Wanda says, sounding all of her young years. And then they’re gone and it’s just the two of them. Bucky is talking softly to him, stroking his hair.

“I can get up I think.”

“Well, let’s wait a minute longer, huh?”

“Is he dead? Did you kill him?”

A pause. “No. Nat stopped me in time. CIA is interrogating him now most likely.”

“Well, I hope he gets killed sooner rather than later. He knew me, you know.”

“Yeah. He also was the one who messed up your comm unit. The moment you left with him we lost you again. Technology is great and terrifying.”

“God, you smell so good,” he says.

“I wish I could say the same, pal.”

Steve makes a hiccoughing sound. “Remember when they gave us that chili? DumDum kept saying we were going to get the bloody flux.”

“You know, some of these ‘remember when’memories really don’t need to be mentioned again. That was a dark 24 hours,” Bucky murmurs, kisses Steve on the top of his head, and Steve can hear the smile in his voice. Finally, Steve gets to his feet.

“I’m covered in vomit,” Steve says, thoroughly disgusted. And you’ve got Kushenko’s blood all over you.”

“See, made for each other. Hence the clothes they brought us. We can’t go traipsing around the resort like this.”He pulls Steve to his feet finally and turns on the shower. “You want me to help you or leave you to it?”

“That’s a stupid question,” Steve says. In what universe would he not want a shower with Bucky?

Bucky strips Steve’s clothes off and then his own, leaving on his underwear. He gets Steve in the shower and they stand there for a long minute. Bucky soaps up his hands slowly. “They almost took you from me,” he says. “Almost hurt you.”

“I’m okay,” Steve says, closing his eyes when he feels Bucky’s hands glide over his collarbones. “Glad you got here. I can’t even imagine kissing someone else let alone sex. Drugged or not drugged.”

The hands still for a second and then continue down his arms. “I know, baby, I know.”

“I’m not like you. Casual, I guess.” He asks again because apparently tonight hasn’t been awful enough. “What happened to that girl who was in your apartment?”

“That was…it was just sex. She’s like you funnily enough.”

“Should I be offended? What does that mean?” Steve asks, as Bucky washes Steve’s hands, rubbing each finger gently. It’s unnecessary and it makes Steve smile, pleased Bucky just wants to touch him, needs to reassure himself that Steve is alright.

“I mean she likes to be roughed up a bit. She’s submissive and masochistic. After that movie every girl wants a spanking it seems.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. The one and only time I thought I’d try it. Thought maybe that was what was missing, that maybe it wasn’t you but the dynamic or the type of sex we usually had.”

“And? Was it?” He doesn’t want to hear it but it’s like a car crash and he’s really going to get every gory detail, can’t help himself.

“No. I only saw her a few times. The last time was when you came by. I knewit was pretty hopeless but I didn’t want to be alone forever, you know?”

“I know.” Bucky looks at him, shrugs a little, maybe embarrassed. Steve lets him off the hook. After all, it was only because Steve had disappeared. “Figures. I kept imagining you with her and she was already gone. Sounds about right.”

“I saw you and it was like, why am I even pretending? There won’t ever be anyone else for me. It’s scary. Wasn’t so scary when I thought it was you and me til…well, for good. But then you changed so much, the grief in your eyes when we met up in Bucharest.” He takes a deep breath, picks up Steve’s other hand and washes his fingers. “And I was so unsteady and after the snap you didn’t get better. When you said you wanted to go back, and I thought maybe that was the right solution. How was I going to take care of you when I couldn’t take care of myself? Before the serum, taking care of you was how I defined myself. After the serum, when you were healthy and everyone finally saw how gorgeous you really are, I wondered if you liked Peggy because you could finally do better than me. You had options.”

“No, Buck.”

“I didn’t think it all the time. Just, sometimes.”

“I thought we took care of each other. I tried.”

Bucky kisses him gently on the forehead. “We did. You did. You made me feel like I hung the fucking moon. But when I came back after the snap and you were already so hurt…what did I have to offer you besides more hurt?”

“You don’t really think that’s all you offer me, do you?” He ducks his head, trying to catch Bucky’s gaze.

Bucky bites his lip, paying intense attention to the soap he still holds in one hand, “Sometimes. I thinkabout how good it felt when I made you cry, how you’d always endure things for me…and it gets all messed up with the helicarrier. What if that’s who I am?”

Steve laughs. Bucky looks at him, horrified. “It’s not funny, but I’ve always thought of what we do as you giving me what _I_ need. Because I needed to cry and prove myself and be the best for you, and doing that gets me off, always has and always will. You know it makes me go into subspace fast. And then you’d protect me when I was down. It never occurred to me that we weren’t in that together.”

Steve turns away from Bucky, puts his face under the water, rinses and spits. His mouth is disgusting. He feels disgusting. “I think I can go back now,” he says.

Bucky gets out of the shower and waits for Steve to turn the water off, gives him a towel and takes his clothes out of the bathroom.

Steve looks away, closes the door and puts on the clothes Nat brought him. New underwear, shirt and shorts. He puts them all on and goes out into the room.

Bucky gives him a questioning look, asks if he’s still okay to move out and then leads the way, holding Steve’s hand just in case. He’s got the flesh covering over his arm and Steve can’t help but rub his thumb over the material. It almost feels like skin but doesn’t. And the temperature is off, too cold. “So, do you think this means I did a good job with my undercover work or not?”

“Oh yeah. I think Fury is going to give you special recognition at the Christmas party.” Steve laughs, rests his forehead on Bucky’s shoulder while they wait for the elevator. Bucky wraps an arm around him, keeping Steve tucked against him. The doors open and maybe Bucky thinks that Steve is still drugged up because he hasn’t been pushed away and Bucky keeps him close, leaning against the wall and drawing Steve in gently so he can hold him. 

He lets his head rest against Bucky, closes his eyes and feels so good he’d be totally fine with the elevator breaking and leaving them there for the night.

It doesn’t.

The door opens and Bucky pushes him gently back and leads them out, still holding Steve’s hand. It’s late now and he wouldn’t call the night cold by any means but the breeze has picked up, the sun has gone down and it’s truly a tropical paradise but in a quieter way that makes the world seem like a very big place.

“I don’t think I want to leave Hawaii,” Steve says.

“Youare neither the first nor the last person to decide that I think.”

They get back to their room and Steve goes to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and feeling vaguely like a person again. Just a very tired person. He comes out of the bathroom and lays down on the bed and Bucky comes to check on him. “Oh no, you don’t. Come on,” he says, pulling down the other side of the covers. He takes off Steve’s shoes and shifts him so he isn’t lying on top of the bedding all night. Then he lays down on top of the covers on Steve’s other side.

“What are you doing?” Steve manages, exhaustion pulling him down.

“You shouldn’t be alone. In case you’re sick again or there are adverse effects. Don’t want something to happen to you in the night.”

“You’ll be here, right?”

“Yeah, Stevie. I’ll be here.” The covers shift, he hears shoes hit the floor and Bucky is there, puts an arm around him and Steve drifts to sleep.

 

***

Bucky’s first thought is that he didn’t have any nightmares. Which is a relief. His second thought is that he’s more content than he can remember being in a long fucking time. He buries his nose against Steve’s neck, breathing him in and holds him tighter. “I love you,” he says, because it’s really the only thing that matters and he hasn’t said it in too long. Steve needs to know. This bullshit about the past and mistakes made isn’t worth it.

How many times had they shivered awake in Brooklyn and Bucky had gotten up to go get Steve some coffee and then come back to bed where they’d talked and made plans and lived for the time they got to spend with each other? The weekends had always been a countdown to separation. The war had been a countdown to death. What a damned waste.

“I can’t promise that it won’t ever come up again. But I want to move beyond the past and be here, in the present with you and our friends and enjoy ourselves. Fuck, Stevie. We god damn survived. How fucking lucky are we?”

“The luckiest,” he says, “And maybe some of the unluckiest.” 

“Yes, but I’m focusing on the positive. How do you feel?”

“Considering I was roofied last night and sick over the toilet for a few hours, pretty good. You know I love you too, right? And I agree with all of it.”

He can feel Steve trying to turn over but he stops him, keeps him where he is, rubs the side of his face against Steve’s neck so he knows it isn’t harshly meant. Steve squeezes his hand in understanding. Bucky misses that silent communication, that unspoken connection they have. Which he knows he’ll never have with anyone else.“Maybe we should take things slow?” Bucky asks, pretty sure that’s a horrible idea. “Make sure we’re okay for a few days?”

“We don’t know what tomorrow will bring. But if I got to have you again, have you inside me, god, kissing me, I wouldn’t say no to that even if it makes things worse later,” Steve says. Bucky doesn’t respond. “I think you’re scared of making a mistake. But I’m not a child, I’m not sick or on the verge of death…you’ve never made me feel less than or like we’re unequal because of the relationship we had, but I’m beginning to. I’m Captain god damned America and you’re Bucky Barnes, the love of my life, stop doubting and punishing us.” 

“That’s not what I’m trying to do. I’m trying to be cautious.”

“But I need you,” Steve says. He picks up Bucky’s flesh hand that’s on his ribs and kisses his fingers, sucks the tip of his index finger into his mouth.

“Stevie,” Bucky says, sounding like a man in pain. Bucky’s hips press closer, his erection against Steve’s ass. He brings Bucky’s fingers down over his lip and his jaw, settles it over his pec. 

“Hard. Just a little,” Steve asks, breathing becoming unsteady. “Please, I need to feel like you want me.” He’d always loved that, the embarrassment that came from the fact that his pecs were too well developed. Bucky had called them his tits, had been obsessed with Steve’s nipples, making them red and sore and if Bucky could turn this down then it really is hopeless.

Steve bends his head down, exposing his neck, a canvas for Bucky’s teeth and feels a twitch of Bucky’s cock against his ass. “Fuck,” Bucky says, and his mouth is on Steve’s neck and his hand is shoving under Steve’s shirt, up to Steve’s chest and palming him, making Steve arch up into his touch.

“Your skin is so soft,” Bucky says, fingers lightly grazing over his nipple.

“That’s the…um, the waxing,” he gasps, struggling to get the thoughts out when Bucky is touching him. “I wanted to be soft for you,” he says.

Bucky exhales hard against his skin and Steve whimpers. “You make me crazy. Fuck, I love you. Tell me then, where else are you all smooth and soft for me?”

“I told you. If you want to know, figure it out.” 

Bucky nips his neck. “You know, if we were just getting together in this day and age you’d be a brat.”

Steve barks out a laugh. “You’d be the biggest dom and would probably make me call you ‘daddy’.” 

“Huh. I hadn’t thought about it. I do like calling you a ‘good boy’. I used to call you that all the time. I thought it was becauseyou liked it.”

“I did. I do. I’ll prove it.”

Bucky’s fingers slide down Steve’s ribs and into his pants. “Oh fuck, Stevie,” Bucky says, as his fingers graze the base of Steve’s shaft, the skin hot, silky and bare. He goes lower, touches Steve’s tight balls and makes a sound. “That had to hurt.”

“It was unbelievably painful,” he says, laughing breathlessly. “Keep going,” he says, even as he’s pushing up into Bucky’s hand. Bucky makes a sound in his throat and reaches further, down along Steve’s smooth taint and then to the tight ring of his hole.

Dry fingers press gently at the puckered flesh. “It’s beautiful, baby,” Bucky whispers and he grinds hard against Steve’s ass cheek. He goes back to cupping Steve’s balls and shifts, puts his cock between Steve’s cheeks as best he can though the fabric and thrusts against him.

“I don’t feel beautiful.” How can he when Bucky isn’t even trying to get Steve naked, hasn’t turned him over and just taken what he wants?

“How do you feel then?”

“Unwanted,” Steve says, eyes squeezed tight against the admission.

Bucky freezes, muscles tense, panting against Steve. He pulls back finally and Steve whimpers at the loss of his body. But the covers are pushed back and down, Bucky grabs Steve’s hips and pulls him to the center of the bed on his back.

He pulls Steve’s pants off and tosses them aside and Steve can feel Bucky’s hot gaze on his hole, his body clenches, wanting to be filled and Bucky’s finger presses lightly against his hole. “I want you, baby. You stay open for me like a good boy and I’ll show you how much I want you.”Bucky’s tongue and mouth is suddenly on him, devouring him, kissing him wetly and relentlessly. Steve’s legs shake and he almost comes from the intense sensation, surprised by his reaction. Bucky chuckles when Steve reaches between his legs and grabs the base of his cock hard. “You’re not in danger of coming, are you, Stevie?”

“Of course I am,” he says, and Bucky kisses his hole, tongues into it and starts pressing a finger into him in earnest. He kisses and rubs at Steve’s rim, pressing in and backing off when Steve holds his breath as he teeters on the edge.

“Do you have lube?” Bucky finally asks.

“Please don’t use it,” he whispers, hands in Bucky’s hair. Bucky kisses the inside of Steve’s thigh and looks him in the eyes.

“Why do you want that?”

“You like hurting me. I like being hurt,” Steve says, quietly.

“I like hurting you when we’re in it together.” He frowns, pets Steve’s shaft gently with one finger. “I don’t feel like that’s why you’re asking me.” Steve doesn’t answer. Bucky knows him so well. “I think you want me to hurt you, to punish you. That isn’t…I don’t want to be that asshole. That’s not, that’s not love, Stevie.”

“It is love. I don’t understand what you think the difference is. Are you telling me that the way you’d fuck me before wasn’t because you loved me?”

He winces, gives Steve’s cock a gentle kiss and then sits up, puts his hands and palms on Steve’s thighs and looks down at him seriously. Fuck, they’re back to talking again. Maybe Bucky just doesn’t want him. “If you don’t want me—,”

Bucky cuts him off. “You know I do. Look at me,” he demands, gesturing to the hard bar of his cock outlined in his pants.

Steve blinks rapidly. “I don’t understand. Why can’t we just be together like we were?”

Bucky rises up over Steve and settles his hands on either side of his head, leans down and kisses Steve’s cheek near his ear. “You’re crying, baby doll. I’m sorry. Do you still want me to fuck you?” he asks, softly.

“Yes. Of course, I do.”

“Then where is the lube?”

“Wash kit in my bathroom.” 

Bucky kisses him once on the lips and then goes to the bathroom, finds Steve’s wash kit and brings it back in with him. He takes out the lube and throws it to Steve then starts taking his clothes off. Steve takes his shirt off so he’s naked too and uncaps it, slicks up his hole and two fingers. He watches Bucky hungrily as his shirt comes off, presses in deep as his hands start unbuttoning his pants. He goes straight for a second finger as Bucky pushes his pants down and takes them off, the hard dark arch of his cock making Steve’s own cock leak in need.

“More lube before you take that third finger,” Bucky orders.

“I’m okay.”

“Do this for me, sweetheart. Let me be sweet to you. Just for now. Sweeter than we ever did. Let’s just see. Maybe we wind up at the same place, maybe we don’t.”

Steve tries not to take it as a rebuff and spreads his legs wider, adds more lube and starts slowly putting three fingers into himself while Bucky watches him, stroking his own cock idly.

His gaze keeps dropping down to Steve’s balls, swollen and full. “This is lovely,” he says, touching the smooth skin of Steve’s balls with his knuckle. “So silky and soft.”

He leans in, rubs his lips over the smooth hairless skin and Steve almost loses it. His fingers bump Bucky’s chin and he feels the slightest graze of teeth over the thin, sensitive skin. “Oh, stop or I’ll come,” he says and stops fucking himself, easing off the sensation.

“Keep going. You can come again,” Bucky says, voice dark and he opens his mouth, sucks on Steve’s skin and takes a ball into his mouth. Steve keens in pleasure and his cock jerks at the promise in Bucky’s voice. He comes abruptly, painting his own stomach, Bucky giving him a look from under his lashes.

“You made a mess,” he says. He grins, wipes two fingers under his jaw and sucks them clean. “I suppose I should have expected that.” Before Steve can respond (not that he has any idea what he’d even say besides oops) Bucky is mouthing at the other ball, and Steve is so sensitive that he can’t even breathe.

It hurts and it’s pure and white and beautiful and he wants it to stop so badly that he’s shaking and he wants it to continue so much that he fucks his fingers in deep and hard and feels his balls filling with come again.

Bucky pulls off, swipes a tongue through the mess on Steve’s stomach and says, “Get your fingers out baby, I need to be in you now,” and all Steve can do is lie there and wait, panting and empty, so fucking needy for it that he can’t even speak. His hand falls to the side of his body and Bucky lines himself up with Steve’s hole.

“Jesus, you have no idea how often I think about being inside you. You’re all pink and wet and open now. So good, Stevie. Got a good view of your hole parting to let me in,” he says, and he groans as the head of his cock slips into Steve. “Jesus, you’re perfect,” he says, fingers unsteady as he stops to put more lube on himself then presses in slow and deep until he’s fully seated. “So good,” he says again, and he’s shifting Steve’s legs wider to look and see, watching Steve’s hole intently as his cock pulls out and sinks back in to the tight heat of his body.

“How is it?” he asks, insecure, wanting more praise. Wanting Bucky to pound into him because he can’t resist.

Bucky gives him a look he can’t read. “Pretty. So beautiful,” he says, and he lets go of a leg to rub a thumb over the area where his cock meets the rim of Steve’s hole. “God, you’re tight on me. How do you feel?”

“Love you,” he says, grinding down on Bucky’s cock, trying not to cry.

“What doyou want, Stevie? What’s not right?”

“I want to feel you today,” he manages. Bucky grabs Steve’s wrists and pins them above his head.

“Stay there. Are you going to be a good boy and listen?”

“Yes,” he says, and his cock flexes, dripping at the growl in Bucky’s voice.

“My baby always did like a challenge. Did you ever think that maybe I’m being so careful with you because I’m scared I’m going to hurt you? Wreck my pretty babydoll?” Bucky asks, his hands back on Steve’s pecs, groping him and squeezing the flesh hard.

“You wouldn’t. And I can take it. Always. I can always take what yougive me.”

“I don’t know. It’s been so long, I’m gonna need you a lot. All the time.” He’s pinching Steve’s nipples harder and harder, steady until Steve finally arches up and then sags back down, breathing hard.

“Oh fuck, please,” Steve begs. “You could. I’d be good for you,” Steve says, craning up to kiss Bucky. Bucky’s hips drive forward, cock striking hard inside his body, setting up a faster rhythm, a breath stealing pace, hard and perfect and all he can do is moan and hold himself still and feel it. “Give you anything.”

“Okay, my good boy. I’m gonna fill you up with my come. You earned it, baby doll.”

Steve risks a glance, sees Bucky is staring at him, has been waiting for him to open his eyes. “Do you deserve it?”

“No,” Steve says, and turns his head away. Because he can’t lie to Bucky. 

“Hey. If I’m offering it to you then do you deserve it?”

He closes his eyes. Bucky stills, panting above him, hot and slick with sweat. His hand, metal and cool grips Steve’s chin hard, forces him to meet his gaze. On some level, he understands that Bucky is touching him with this hand on purpose, that he’s trying to prove a point, exert his will.

“Don’t be a brat. Don’t make this about you.”

Steve tries to jerk his head away.

“No. This is where we are now.You be a good boy and look at me or I’m not going to come in your ass, do you understand?”

Steve’s lips are pressed tightly closed, his breathing is erratic and he feels like he’s in danger, about to spiral into some primitive fight or flight mode. Bucky wants him to give in, to agree, to take this but this isn’t what he wants. This slowness, carefulness, Bucky being thoughtful and reasonable, as he tries to pick Steve apart and give him more and better and good. Which he hasn’t fucking asked for.

“Open your mouth,” Bucky demands, and he presses his lips hard against Steve, swiping wetly at his mouth, kissing him, expecting instant compliance. Bucky bites him on the jaw, a nip that probably won’t bruise because Steve apparently doesn’t get bruised anymore and then he’s back, tongue in Steve’s mouth as he kisses him like he wants.

Bucky is trembling, from emotion or from keeping himself still when he’s buried in Steve’s body and so close to coming, denying the both of them for whatever stupid point he’s trying to make. “Thank me for this.”

Steve’s hand comes down, disobeying Bucky’s order, grips Bucky’s flesh bicep hard in protest.

“You’re not going to let me take care of you?” Bucky asks.

Steve doesn’t know, is getting all twisted around. “I want—”

“Uh uh. No, sweetheart. I’m giving you what you want. Because you want what I want. Don’t you?” Yes. No. Maybe. He isn’t sure. “Put your hand back where I put it, Stevie.”

He glares into Bucky’s eyes, feels like they’re fighting and he doesn’t understand this, what the point of it is or why Bucky is making it so difficult.

“You want me and you’ll be a good boy for me or I’ll pull out of you and jerk myself off untilyou give me what I want and then we’ll try again.” Steve puts his hand back where it was and Bucky groans in pleasure, starts fucking Steve again, slow and easy, kissing his jaw and then his neck and telling Steve he’s so good as he kisses near Steve’s ear.

“Let me hold you,” Steve asks, voice shaking.

“Of course, babydoll,” like it’s easy and he really would give Steve anything.

Steve’s arms go around Bucky’s neck, he tilts his hips up, tries to open his legs more, make more ofa home for Bucky in his body.

“ _There._ That’s what I want. That’s so sweet. So good ofyou. You make me feel so good, Stevie.”

And for some ridiculous, stupid reason that makes no fucking sensewhatsoever Steve starts crying. Bucky hushes him with kisses, tells him he’s going to be okay, that he loves him and he’s perfect.

He clutches Bucky tighter, wishes he could have more of him, all of him, forever and longer, knows there will never be enough time for the two of them.

Bucky is still fucking him slow and gentle and Steve hopes it will never end, finally gets it, something deep inside him clicking into place or cracking open as he moves his body in time with Bucky’s and follows his movements. It’s like a dance and Steve’s never wanted to dance, never learned because it wasn’t him. To go along and be brought with when all he’s ever done is fight and then get beaten, struggled and fought. Bucky doesn’t want him to fight. Bucky wants to protect him.

“There you are. There’s my good boy. You’re amazing. You’re perfect. So good, Stevie. Fuck you’re going to make me come,” he says. Bucky’s voice is rough, his thrusts are becoming erratic and Steve wants Bucky to know that he gets it, he does understand, that he is Bucky’s good boy. He’ll take what Bucky wants to give him, even it it’s hard because it’s too easy and sweet when what Steve wants is a fight.

“Always, Stevie. I’ll always give you what you need. And you’ll give me what I need, too. Do you see, sweetheart, that there is no one I won’t try to be for you?”

Steve whimpers and nods. “I get it. I do. Want you to come in me. I love you, love this. I’ll be good, I’ll do better. I’m your good boy, I swear.”

“I know. I know, baby. I know whatyou are to me. Who am I to you? What am I asking you?”

“To give in.”

“That’s right.” Bucky fucks into him harder, hands finally tight and bruising and painful on Steve’s ass as he chases his orgasm and fucks greedily into Steve’s body, coming with a low groan and his mouth on Steve’s jaw. “I want everything from you, Stevie.”

Steve is shaking as Bucky comes back to himself, so hard and needy he can’t stand it. Bucky shifts a little, enough to get a hand on Steve’s cock and jerk him off. He loves this, loves that Bucky has gotten his and kept him on edge, loves that he’s going to be taken care of and be sheltered under the weight of his body, loves that it’s his hand, like he’s taking care of Steve in this intimate way as almost an afterthought.

He comes almost instantly, “Daddy, thank you, daddy. Thank you,” Steve says, cock pulsing, his passage clenching against Bucky’s cock making Bucky press deep into him with a rough twitch, chasing that last shock of pleasure.

 

***

 

At first Steve thinks he’s gotten away with it. Bucky kisses him, pulls out of Steve’s ass carefully and tells him it was amazing. He’s smiling and gentle as he drags Steve out of bed and into the bathroom. Bucky turns on the shower and they brush their teeth in the interim then get in together. Frankly, he’d wanted Bucky so much he hadn’t fucking noticed if there was a morning breath situation. When one gets used to having sex during war, morning breath is the least of one’s problems. But now that they’re out of bed it seems only polite. Steve likes the small task, something to do where they can’t talk about what has just happened.

He feels so weirdly raw and emotional that he can’t bear being made fun of. Bucky presses Steve against the shower wall, mouth on his instantly, kissing him deep and hungry like he’s dying for him. He feels Bucky’s cock hard against his and Bucky is already grinding into him as he kisses Steve’s jaw and then his neck.

Bucky’s fingers go down and back, sink into his hole and the wet mess of him. “Fuck you’re open and so wet.”

“I need you,” Steve says, open-mouthed against Bucky’s shoulder.

“I know. I’m going to fuck you now, Stevie,” he says, taking Steve’s hand and putting it on his cock. Steve jerks him off slow and careful, feeling like he’s half out of his head already.

“Look who’s all soft and sweet now,” Bucky says, and it makes Steve blush because he is, he’s in a weird headspace and all he can do is listen and obey Bucky, try to get him closer, follow his direction. “Are you going to be a good boy and let me fuck you?” Bucky’s hand sinks deep into Steve’s ass again. 

“Yes, sir,” he says, softly.

Bucky grins against his jaw. “What do you want, babydoll?”

“Like you kissing me. But I also like it when you fuck me from behind.”

“Turn then,” he says, and his hands are on Steve’s hips, helping him turn. Steve presses his face to the wall, hands on the cool marble and shifts his legs apart.

“Yes, yes, that’s perfect,” Bucky says, and then his knuckles are bumping Steve’s hole as he lines himself up. He presses into him and up, Steve dragging in a breath and holding it as he tries to relax. His hole flutters, weakly protesting, which makes Bucky pause and his hands grip Steve’s pecs tightly.

“Keep going.”

And Bucky stills, buried deep, clutching Steve’s breast in one hand, the other dropping and stroking gently along the inside of Steve’s thighs and cupping his balls. “Who am I? Who’s taking care of you now? Who’s good boy are you?”

“Bucky,” he whispers, pleading because he can feel the power and command, that Bucky is exerting his will now and it’s like it’s an actual substance on his skin, pulling him down.

“Physical is easy. This is mental. Just…” He bites his lip, eyes closed. It’s not coherent. He can’t do better right now. He didn’t escape, didn’t get away with calling Bucky daddy.

Bucky’s going to demand and Steve is going to give in. And he’s going to hate it and love it at the same time. His shoulders relax and he presses back, seeking the protection of Bucky’s body. “Fuck me,” he tries. And it’s one of the few times he wishes he was smaller.

“No, this is what I want,” Bucky says, roughly. This is the payment. This is the price of admission. His vulnerability and willingness to give him more and more. “Come on baby boy. Let’s hear it.” Does he like that? He doesn’t know but it’s enough to make him clench and try to restrain the sudden urgent need to come.

“Daddy. Please. Daddy.”

Bucky grunts, shoves Steve forward with the weight of his body and as soon as his cock pressed against the marble Steve comes.“Oh! Uhh,” he manages and then Bucky plunges hard into him, his own cock spasming as he comes deep in Steve’s body.

“Good boy. That wasn’t so hard was it?”

Steve whimpers in embarrassment. “You know it is.”

“Yeah, I do.” Bucky’s thumbs rub circles into Steve’s hips, fingers still spread on him, gripping and holding, supporting him, cock buried deep in Steve. “And you did everything I wanted. You’re gorgeous, you know that?”

Steve’s drifting, getting his breath back, realizes the water is cooler because Bucky has adjusted the temperature.You were fighting me and that’s alright, isn’t it, sweetheart?” Steve reaches back, puts a hand on Bucky’s hip and cheek, trying to drag him in deeper.

Bucky kisses Steve’s throat, teeth biting him gently. “Yes, do that,” Steve says, pressing his throat harder against Bucky’s teeth. Bucky pulls back, licks Steve’s neck and then starts fucking into him, arms crossed over Steve’s chest, hands on his pecs, pulling his body back as he fucks in deep. Steve’s consumed, helpless against Bucky’s onslaught. He’s pinned against the wall and at his ass, his hole sore and even with all the slick, Bucky had taken him quickly andit’s been so long since they’ve done this that he’s feeling that edge of subspace creep over him as the discomfort has switched into a deep rhythmic ache deep inside him.

“How are you, sweetheart,” Bucky asks, asSteve’s breathing shifts and becomes slower.

“Love it. Love you. Don’t stop.”

“Oh sweetheart, I don’t think I could even ifyou wanted me to.” Steve whimpers, hand dropping down to touch himself. The idea of Bucky having to have him, unable to stop himself is something he’s always found unbelievably hot. Bucky laughs low in his throat, hand dropping to stop Steve from touching himself. “You getting what you want now, babydoll?” He places Steve’s hand back on the marble and Steve whines.

Steve shifts restlessly against him, tries to bring his feet in a few inches but Bucky growls, thighs pressing in-between his, keeping him open and exposed.

“You’re going to make me come,” Steve says.

“Untouched? After what we’ve already done? That would be impressive.”

Bucky’s hands leave Steve’s chest with a final deep pinch and then his fingers slide between Steve’s keeping his hands against the wall. “Want your hand. Need you to touch me. Please make me come.”

“But I want to see if you can do it. Fuck, you’re so hot inside,” Bucky says and he grinds in again, making Steve whimper. Bucky pulls back a little, and Steve knows he’s watching his cock slide out of Steve’s hole. “Oh,you’regoing tofeel that sweetheart.”

“I’m…if I go under….”

Bucky chuckles and sinks back into him. “If you go under make sure you don’t brain yourself in the shower?”

Steve hums in agreement. He is nothing butsensation now. His aching cock, dripping and needy,his sore hole that is clenching on Bucky’s cock and making Steve fall apart.“Tell me,” Steve asks, quietly.

“It’s pink. Looks sore. Like you…fuck, like you need a break. Baby. I’m sure you do. Don’t you?”

“No.”

“You do. You need a break. For me to leave your ass alone. Maybe just come in your mouth or on your tits. Hell, I could just slide along your cheeks and you’ve got me so hot I’d fucking come all over you and it’d feel so good.”

Steve’s balls are so tight and hard and his legs are close to giving out he’s so turned on and pulsing in and out of subspace. “No. In me. More,” he tries to say.

“But you’re such a good boy and you’re so fucking hot inside I can’t leave you alone, can I? Ican’t leave you now. Want to mark you up inside. Every time you sit down I want to see it on your face. My good boy needs to know what you did to me. How hot you made me that I had to treat you like this.”

Steve cries out, his legs goand Bucky growls and readjusts, his metal arm around Steve’s waist,propping him against the wall as he fucks into him. “Almost, sweetheart. I’ll come when you come.”

“I’m under,” Steve slurs, because subspace can make it harder for him to come, it just slips away, becomes unimportant and then later, fuck later, he’s gagging for it he’s gotta come so bad. Bucky knows that too.

“Yeah, I know my good boy. But you’re going to come anyway, aren’t you? For me. Come for your daddy,you hear me?” he says, and he slams deep, is relentless as he humps into him andSteve whimpers and tries to drag himself out of subspace so he can do what Bucky wants. But Bucky is groaning and panting and Steve is so far under everything is gone but Bucky.

“Love you. Buck. Love you,” he whispers and Bucky comes, pulsing in Steve, making him whimper because he’s so sensitive and sore. When Bucky pulls out of him, he gives Steve a rinse, gently cleaning his hole while Steve shivers and tries to burrow into his shoulder. Bucky carries him out of the shower like a bride, lays him back down on the bed and pulls the covers over him. Steve wants to hold him there, kiss him and take him again. He wants to be crying with it because Bucky has used him so hard.

Bucky gives him agentle kiss on the nose and draws back. When he wakes up Bucky is dressed, he’s carrying a room service tray and he sets it on the bed. Steve takes stock of himself, touches his lips, slightly swollen from kissing, his neck which is red and probably only a little bruised and then his tits which are throbbing dully from all the attention they got.

His cock is basically hard and leaking. He squeezes it once and makes himself let go. Bucky is watching him while he drinks coffee, intent and smugas Steve touches himself. His thighs have little places that hurt where Bucky’s fingers dug into him and his hole is burning hot. He looks up at Bucky, blushing as he puts a hand over his hole, touches lightly with gentle fingers. He’s wet and still leaking, his hole is open a little, the rim swollen and he shifts on the bed, feels the ache inside.

“Be careful gorgeous or you’ll get me started again.”

Steve gives him a look, bites his lip while he touches his sore hole, finger dipping in and out, trying to give Bucky ideas. “Really?”

“No, not really. Gonna be sweet to you, remember.”

“You were being sweet to me. You still are.” More sweet than he deserves, more than he thought he might ever have again. He swallows hard, this isn’t a good time to get emotional. “God, I’mso horny now. It’s crazy feeling like this again. I just didn’t want anything for so long.” He turns his head away, blinks. “It was like I was dead inside.”

“Oh, sweetheart. I’m sorry. But, I’m going to give you some time to heal.”

Steve presses another finger inside himself, tries to angle so Bucky can see, because he’s watching Steve closely and he’s hard in his pants. Steve’s pretty sure Bucky is going to stay strong but it’s worth a shot. “It’s not that sore….Daddy. Feel.”

“You’re horrible. Absolutely horrible. Eat your bacon,” Bucky says, and takes bite of toast.He turns on his heel and walks out of the bedroom.

Steve goes to the bathroom, washes his hands and looks at himself in the mirror. Now he’s feeling loved. He’s smiling like a fool and he tries to stop it but can’t.

He gets back in bed and starts eating and once his attention is fixed on the food Bucky comes back in, opens the curtains and the slider so they can hear the ocean and feel the breeze. Sensibly enough he’s left the privacy curtain so people can’t look in. “Nat is going to be here soon so you may want to put clothes on.”

“I had completely forgotten we had a mission,” Steve says, and he’s joking but he’s not joking.

“You don’t say?”

Steve gets out of bed, sees the breath Bucky pulls into his lungs as he gets a look at Steve’s body. Steve turns, shows Bucky his backside as he gets underwear and puts it on. Bucky is suddenly on him,kissing his neck, hand possessively cupping Steve’s cock. “You’re still wet with my come. I can see it.”

Steve blushes. Of course, Bucky likes it, he’s always been a possessive bastard. “It’s annoying,” he says, petulant as this is the sort of complaint Bucky likes. “I need to clean up again….Oh, or I can wait,” Steve says,letting his head fall back on Bucky’s shoulder as Bucky gropes him through his underwear.

“You didn’t come earlier.”

“No, sir, I did not.”

“Now it’s all I’m going to think about. I know how horny you get when you don’t come.”

“Yeah,yeah I do,” he says, wrapping his hand awkwardly above his head and on Bucky’s neck, urging his mouth to bite his neck. Bucky groans, puts a hand down Steve’s underwear, his skin warm and his touch firm. “I could come now. You’re getting me there. Oh, yeah I love that,” he says, as Bucky gives him a hard, slow pull starting at the very base of his shaft.

“Maybe I don’t want you to come. Maybe I want you to want me all day.”

“Okay,” Steve says, agreeing easily. But his cock flexes, seeking friction, not getting the memo that this isn’t going to happen right now. Bucky swipes his thumbover the head, finds Steve sticky and leaking steadily.

“Do you want to do that for me?”

“Yes, I do,” Steve says, voice low and fervent. He wants to do anything for Bucky. He’s willing to prove his devotion and his love over and over again, as long as Bucky needs him to or wants him to. He grips Bucky’s neck tightly. “I’ll do anything. I said it and I meant it. After last night, yeah, I just—“ and now he is getting emotional, feels the grief and guilt and loss trying to come out, pulling him apart from the inside out.

“Shh, it’s alright, sweetheart. It is. I’m sorry I kept us apart,” Bucky says, his own voice gruff. He stops touching Steve, turns and pulls him into his arms, holding him tightly.

“Can this wait until tonight?” he asks, jacking Steve slowly.

Could it? He was pretty sure the answer was no. But ifhe got really desperate Bucky would find a way to take care of him. The serum made it difficult to not get off if he was worked up. His body got aroused so easily, came easily and then wouldn’t even bother to soften most times. Bucky’s phone buzzed as a message came through.

He pulls it out and looks at it then frowns. It buzzes again and Bucky winces at the message. “What?”

“Nat has been told to take over the mission. She’s going to coordinate with Sharon right now. We’re ordered to stay put for the next 24 hours while they get it sorted out. She also says we should close our blinds.”

Steve turns quickly, sees the way the sheer curtains are blowing in and fluttering back down. “You know, the ground floor makes good access for getting out and in and whatnot but yeah, I guess they don’t really need to see me in my underpants.

“That’s their loss,” Bucky jokes, swatting him on the ass.

“How embarrassing. How much do you think she saw?”

He shrugs. “I wouldn’t worry, babe. Your back is to the slider, I’m dressed and you do have underwear on. Maybe she just saw me holding you.”

“Let’s hope so. I’m sure I’ll hear about it anyway.” Steve steps away from him and closes the slider, pulls the drapes and then goes to their bedroom door, closing it and locking it too. He presses Bucky back towards the bed, pulling his shirt off and undoing Bucky’s pants. Bucky sits and Steve goes to the ground, takes off the rest of Bucky’s clothes and urges him back against the pillows. He takes off his underwear and straddles Bucky.

“Areyou upset about being pulled off the mission?” Steve asks.

Bucky blinks up at him, hands roaming Steve’s chest. “Not just at the moment.”

“Ha ha. You know what I mean.”

“No. It’s not that dangerous and we’re still here if they need us. Plus, they’re all going tobe so damned happy we’ve worked it out that they’ll let it go.”

“Have we worked it out?” Steve asks, tracing his fingers along Bucky’s collarbones and down his chest.

“You don’t think so?”

“Don’t deflect.

Bucky cups his face wanting his attention. Steve turns his head kisses his wrist. “Yeah, sweetheart. We’re okay. I love you. You love me. Nothing else matters.”

“I do. I do, Buck,” And Steve bends down to kiss him on the lips, Bucky letting his mouth be soft and receptive to whatever Steve wants. “Can I take care of you?” Steve asks, blushing because this is more about him wanting Bucky then the other way around.Bucky would be happy with a hand job.

“Yeah, Stevie. You can. But, hey,” he says, putting a hand in Steve’s hair to get his attention. “Lube. A lot of it.”

Steve blushes at the order. “Sir, yes sir.”

“I thought I was daddy now?”

“Very funny.”

“I’m not making fun of you. And it isn’t ridiculous. Especially not the way you blush and get all shy when I make you say it. I fucking love that,” he says, gaze suddenly hot.

“I didn’t know my dad. Andit’s not like I want you to be my dad.”

“Good. That would be weird.”

“But I…I think there’s going to be a lot of crying and general neediness for a while on my part. And I like the idea of you caring for me and makingit better.” Bucky stops him with a firm hand in his hair.

“Keep looking at me. That’s my good boy.” Steve gasps, hand touching himself and then letting go. “I know. And I need you too. The reassurance that you’re mine. I don’t think it’s this easy. Not yet. But I only know how to take care of you. If you call me daddy, that’s trust. It’s devotion. It doesn’t have to be all the time. But you should know that when you say it, if you say it, I’m only going to feel goodabout it…and then I’m going to fuck you.” 

Steve gives a big smile. “Then daddy it is.”

“I thought you were going to ride my cock.”

“I was. I am. You just wouldn’t shut up.”

Bucky grabs his pecs and squeezes them together, pulls Steve forward by them until hecan get Steve’s nipple into his mouth. He licks it and then sucks until he finally lets go and moves to the other one. Steve is pantingby the end of it and Bucky goes back to the first one and bites, now that Steve is all warmed up and pink, can feel the little buds aching as Bucky makes it hurt.

He chokes off a moan when Bucky does it to the other side and his hand is shaking as he reaches for Bucky’s cock and positions itat his hole. “Wait. What did I say?”

He literally has no idea. He just needs Bucky in him. Bucky rolls his eyes. “God, you’re beautiful. Hold on a second there,” hesays, and he gets the lube, slicks himself up and then positions the head at Steve’s hole. Steve sinks down on Bucky’s cock.

Little sounds are getting caught in his throat and tears gather at the corner of his eyes as he relentlessly takes Bucky inside him. When he’s seated fully he collapses forward, clumsily finding Bucky’slipsand kissing him. Bucky’s hands grab his hips, lift him so he’s rocking back and forth. Steve’s hole clenches and flutters, his body goes boneless at the feeling but he forces himself up, hands on Bucky’schest as he raises and lowers himself, hissing on every downward stroke and exhaling in broken sounds when he comes up.

Bucky wipes a tear away, is studying him closely. “You gonna keep looking at me,sweetheart? Let me see you?”

“Yeah, Buck. I will.”

Bucky wraps a hand around Steve’s cock and he comes instantly in dense pulses, his cock not softening at all. It makes him more sensitive and Bucky gives him a look, asking a silent question of whether he should let him go or not. “Stay,” he manages and Bucky grips him tight, jerks him lightly and it’s so good and horrible he can’t even ride him for a moment,he’s just paused, mouth open in a silent cry as the feelings consume him. 

“Beautiful boy.”

“Fuck. It’s a lot. It’s so good.”

“Is it? You look like it hurts.”

Steve laughs weakly and Bucky thrusts up into him as hispassage ripples around his cock. “Yeah, it does. Same thing. Daddy, you’re so big. So hard in me,” he says, with a wink.

“That’s cheating. You can’t say something like that and not expect me to flip you over and fuck you.”

“Promise?”

Bucky licks his lips, hands tightening on Steve’s hips as he thrusts up into him. “You going to be a good boy and make me come?”

“Always,” he says, and he rises up and down again, feels the tears start and Bucky is pulling him down into a kiss, wiping away Steve’s tears as best he can, letting him cry as he works Bucky’s cock.

Steve stops moving, so grateful and overwhelmed to have Bucky there with him, to feel him deep and hard inside him. He shivers. “Maybe. Um. Could you…. Can we switch. Just cover me with your body?”

“I don’t need to finish, let me just hold you.”

“You know that’s not….” It’s not what he wants. He’s done so much fucking gentle. He’s been so good. “You know what I want.”

“Alright, sweetheart. My sweet babydoll, here we go.So good, wanting to make sure I come even though you’re worn out. You’re gonna take care of me, aren’t you?”

Steve kisses him hard, bites his lip, pleading with him. Yes, he wants that, wants to be that. Bucky moves him off of him, gets Steve laid out on the bed, pushes his thigh up and out then puts two pillows under him. A thumb brushesever so gently against Steve’s hole and he flinches.

“You’re swollen and open,” he says, rubbing his thumb around the rim.

“Good. Feels good.” Bucky knows hemeans it,knows Steve will comeif it hurts enough, will be half hard the rest of the day as his body heals because he likes it so much. Bucky covers him, pushes his cock into Steve’s body, kissing him awkwardly and taking his gasps and whimpers into his mouth as Bucky pins him down and forces his hard, heavy cock into Steve’s body.

He fucks him slowly, rests his weight on top of Steve as he does so, feels Steve make a purring sound of pleasure. Feels the ripple go through Steve’s body as he comes and then Steve is practically comatose under him, deep in subspace as Bucky finishes in him, coming deep and with a few quick thrusts at the end to make sure every drop of his seed is deep inside Steve. He lays on top of him, weighing him down, feels Steve’s fingers clench weakly on his hand in thanks.

“Good boy. You’re the best boy,” Bucky says, and Steve sighs in pleasure.

When Bucky wakes up a little while later his own cock is sore. God only knows how Steve feels. He goes to take a shower and then runs a bath for Steve, pulling him up and getting him cleaned up again. He watches his face as he cleans between his legs and Steve is looking at him like the sappiest dope ever. He’s perfect. “I’ll kiss it better later.”

Steve blushes. They finally leave the room and go down to the beach, lay down on some towels and doze in the sun. When they awake it’s because it’s raining, warm and gentle. Everyone leaves, the cowards, but they stay and Steve starts kissing him, telling him how much he loves him, how much he missed him.

He doesn’t try to stop him, of course not. It’s for him and it makes him feel good but it’s for Steve too. This apology that may never end. When they get back home Steve will have to see the therapist more, Bucky needs to insist on it. He has to find a way to forgive himself, to be nice to himself and he knows he’s not the cure to Steve’s depression (even though one would think he does have a magicalcock from the way Steve acts) and the sooner they get on that the happier Steve will be.

“I’m sorry I let you go,” Bucky says. “I shouldn’t have gone into cryo again. I shouldn’t have letyou go to Peggy. I should have said something when you told me you saw her in the 70’s. If I had you wouldn’t have gone. And I’m sorry you had to live all those years without me. You won’t have to do it again, I promise.”

Steve smiles but it’s wobbly and kisses him some more.

“Jesus get a room with some closing curtains,” Wanda says, and they look up, seeing her standing over them. Nat is laying out a blanket, Scott is in some godawful swim trunks and Sam is wearing a t-shirt, swim trunks and flip flops. It’s funnier than it should be.

“What happened?” Steveasks pulling away. He grabs a towel and pulls it over his lap. Nat rolls her eyes.

“It’s all done. We had to move early to apprehend everyone once the kidnapping went wrong. So we figured we’d come see what the love birds were up to.”

“I’m the one who called them love birds,” Sam said.

“It’s a common saying. It’s not like no one would call them lovebirds if it wasn’t foryou,” Scott says. “Doritos?” he asks, pulling a bag out of his backpack. Wanda heads towards the water and they follow.

“I booked us in at the Italian place tonight. Unless you two are too busy “reconnecting”,” she says, using air quotes. 

“We can reconnect after dinner,” Bucky says, and gets up to go into the water.

“I thought we were getting Japanese?” Sam asks.

“Booked because of the wedding. That’s like half the reason people come here.”

Bucky looks at Nat, sees her looking back at him. He gives a nod. Maybe one last mission before they go back.

 

Epilogue

 

The next day they rent a boat and go snorkeling. Steve gets sunburned and the tops of Wanda’s ears are bright red from where she forgot sunblock. Nat puts more sunblock on Wanda, and Wanda’s cheeks turn pink as she blushes. They watch the sunset and see a whale breach the surface from the back of the boat. It’s perfect.

Steve is holding a glass of whiskey and looks so fucking happy Bucky takes a picture. “I got something for you,” he says, as he sits back down.

“If you hand me a dead fish I’m going to use a lot of teeth on you later.”

Bucky pretends to think about it for a minute.“No, it’s not a dead fish. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“The hell you wouldn’t. You did. Remember? That summer Kenny’s parents took the three of us to the lake for his birthday?”

“That was a frog. And we were 11.”

“That’s even worse.”

“Anyways, this is a good thing.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the little box, setting it between them. Steve looks at it, looks up at Bucky and waits for a long moment. Bucky winks at him, opens the box and pulls out the ring. Steve holds out his hand and Bucky slips it onto his finger. Steve kisses him soundly.

“You’re supposed to ask him!” Scott shouts.

Steve turns around, sees all of their stupid friends peering around the corner of the boat at them.Nat’s muttering to Wanda about getting her camera because Fury will want apicture of the big moment. (Sure he will) “James Buchanan Barnes, will you marry me?” Steve says.

“Any days of the week, pal. But I’m the one who has the ring so I should ask.”

Nat steps forward, a box resting on her palm.

“Boom!” Sam shouts. “Look at that! You were meant to be. Cut the fucking check!”

Scott says in a stage whisper, “What do you mean? What check?”

“It’s a saying,” Sam says.

“I don’t get it. What does it mean?” Wanda asks. Sam tries explaining and no one notices Steve and Bucky kissing as the sun goes down.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JFC, this last chapter fought me. I'm not sure who won or if my d/s dynamic actually played out as i wanted. Thanks for reading, please comment if you liked it!


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